The Devil's Secretary
by frostykitten
Summary: Malfoy ran his eyes over her from foot to hair. "I told her big breasts," he muttered irritably before putting his head back down on the desk, looking entirely uninterested and hungover. Hermione added sexual harassment to the growing list against him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**A/N: Hello readers! I decided this story needed to be rated M for the recurring theme of substance abuse and profanity.**

**Thanks to GreekGirl for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

Hermione was down on her luck. The magical world had been going through tough times of late and she'd been let go from her job at the Ministry. The loss had left her scrounging to find some other way to support herself in a job market that was remarkably scarce.

Percy Weasley had come in person to give her the bad news instead of the memo that other people in her department had received as budget cuts came down from the top. He'd been very sweet about it, putting a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort that had only made her want to edge away a little bit – Percy was an awkward person at the best of times and comforting obviously wasn't his forte. It was sweet of him to put in the effort though.

Her friends and parents had asked her on multiple occasions to just come to stay with them and sublet her flat for some extra income while she hunted for a new job, but that seemed too close to accepting charity to Hermione, and she was too proud to do something like that. Maybe if her situation worsened, but she was hoping it wouldn't come to that. Hermione Granger was nothing if not self-sufficient.

She knew her downward spiral was complete when she found herself standing outside of the Malfoy Industries building dressed for a job interview.

She'd sent in her application the week before and received an enthusiastic response in a suspiciously short amount of time. If she hadn't been so desperate, she never would have even considered applying to a place where there was such a high chance that she'd end up having any contact with Malfoy.

She took a steadying breath before she pulled open the large glass and gold doors of the ostentatious building and entered. The inside was just as overdone as the exterior, with marble everything and huge pillars lining the walls leading all the way to the reception desk. It was everything she'd expect from a building run by a Malfoy.

Confidently, she walked up to the woman sitting at the desk and smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger; I have an appointment with Mrs. Woods," she said crisply.

The woman didn't even look away from the trashy romance novel she was reading, she merely waved her garish red nails towards the door to the lift just past her desk. "Fifth floor."

A little put off by the rude reception, Hermione made her way past the woman and into the lifts. She hadn't been worried before, but the grand scale of the building was starting to make her feel underdressed in her practical little heels and conservative knee-length skirt.

This notion only intensified when she stepped out of the lift and saw the woman waiting for her. She had her sleek black hair swept back from her face in a bejewelled comb and her short black dress had the clean lines that spoke of an expensive, designer brand. No one would _ever _use the word practical to describe the shoes adorning her pedicure sporting feet.

Hermione felt positively grungy in comparison and the assessing look the cool woman ran over her only made the entire situation even more uncomfortable. The disapproval was practically _oozing _from this other woman.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger here to see-"

"Me," the woman interrupted. She ran her eyes over the brunette one more time and tutted quietly. "I would have preferred someone more stylish, but you're going to have to do. Now, your duties are going to include-"

Hermione was confused. She was under the impression that she was there for an interview, not some kind of orientation accompanied by copious insults.

"Um, excuse me. Wasn't I here for an interview?"

Mrs. Woods smiled a feral smile that was all teeth. "If you can get to the end of the day without bursting into tears or hexing someone, then you're hired."

It seemed they were encouraging as well as polite at Malfoy Industries. Hermione didn't know why she was surprised that the people working there weren't the most pleasant employees in the world – after all, look who they worked for.

They stopped in front of a dark wooden door with an engraved golden plaque proclaiming it to be the office of 'Draco Malfoy, CEO'. Hermione snapped her suddenly panic stricken eyes to the woman beside her.

"The job description never said anything about working directly with any of the Malfoys, I assumed I'd be taking messages and making copies of things, not have any contact with the CEO!"

"Well, if we told applicants what the job really entailed, then we would never get anyone showing up for interviews. And we can't have that; if no one shows up, then I have to do the job, and there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

Hermione was sure there had to be a law dealing with lying about the duties for a job just to get applicants, but as long as the salary portion was correct, she'd just have to deal with it. "What _exactly_ is it that I'll actually be doing?" she asked, her voice laden with dread. She didn't appreciate being misled, but, once again, it was _Malfoy's _company, so what did she expect?

"Essentially, your job is going to be keeping our _beloved _CEO in line." The single sentence was filled with more sarcasm than Hermione had ever heard a person squeeze into one phrase. "You're a war hero, this should be a walk in the park compared to bringing down the Dark Lord."

It didn't escape Hermione's notice that the woman said 'Dark Lord' instead of 'Voldemort'.

That said, the woman opened the door and shoved Hermione inside before she could voice her objections. What did she mean 'keep him in line'? As far as the news had been reporting, Draco Malfoy had been nothing but law abiding and professional since the end of the war.

As soon as her eyes landed on the figure behind the expensive desk, Hermione knew that Malfoy's public image was only because whoever had been doing the job before her had been good at their job. The suit he was wearing was appropriate enough for work, but there was no shirt underneath the jacket, and Hermione could see that he wasn't wearing socks with his expensive loafers. His head had been resting on his desk, but when he heard the door click shut he lifted it, looking as if the small gesture took immense effort.

In the same way as Mrs. Woods had, Malfoy ran his eyes over her from foot to hair with a scowl on his face.

"I told her _big _breasts," he muttered irritably before putting his head back down on the desk, looking entirely uninterested.

Hermione mentally added sexual harassment to the list of things he had going against him.

With a wistful glance at the door, she reminded herself why she was there. She needed the money desperately, and this was one of the best paying jobs she could find – one of the _only _job's she'd been able to find. If she wanted to keep her apartment, she was going to have to suck it up and become the Devil's secretary – or whatever her official job title was.

"And I wasn't told babysitting a 25 year old toddler was in my job description," she snapped back at him. The size of her breasts had absolutely _nothing _to do with her job performance and she wasn't going to let him make her feel bad about what she had.

If they were so desperate to hire people that they had to lie about what the job entailed, then she could get away with all kinds of things before they'd fire her. She hoped.

He didn't even raise his head from the desk. "I may have a humongous hangover at the moment, but that doesn't mean you can mouth off to me on your very first day."

Hands planted firmly on her hips, Hermione dredged up the voice she used to use on Ron when he was at his most obstinate and idiotic. "I'll treat you respectfully when you've done something to earn my respect. Until then, I'm going to speak to you like the child I've already stated you are."

"You're officially forbidden to use that swotty tone with me again, I'm having Hogwarts flashbacks to this completely unbearable girl who used to sound just like-"

Abruptly, he cut off and raised his head just enough to look at her with one bloodshot eye. That eye took in her form once again and came to rest on her still slightly bushy hair before widening. "Bloody hell, this just isn't my day," he said in a depressed tone.

"Listen Malfoy-" she started, only to be interrupted when he raised his head completely from the desk, looking more alert than he had since she'd stumbled into his office.

"No, you listen Granger. You work for me, and as my employee, you _will _treat me with respect if you want to get your pay check. Now, I have a meeting in an hour. You're to bring me a Pepper Up potion and find me a shirt."

She liked him better when he was too desolate to deal with her. That one glimpse of the boss he could be, both made her dread what she'd have to deal with after the Pepper Up potion, but it gave her slightly more faith in him as an employer.

Hermione glared fiercely, but knew she didn`t really have any choice other than to do what the git asked.

Mrs. Woods was waiting for her outside Malfoy's door. "No tears, I'm impressed," the woman said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Here's your company card to get whatever he's ordered, just show it to any shopkeeper and they'll know to bill it to the company account."

Hermione accepted the small piece of stiffened parchment and headed out of the building. She didn't even know the prat's size, how was she supposed to get him clothes?

What she needed to do was find the most expensive tailor's in the area. Chances were, that was where Malfoy usually shopped and the tailor would know his size – hopefully. Otherwise, she was just going to go to the cheapest shop she could find and get him something with a Hawaiian print.

* * *

><p>By the time Hermione got back to Malfoy's office, she only had ten minutes to spare before he needed to get to his meeting. She was frazzled and her cheeks were probably bright red from the exertion of running in order to arrive before his meeting.<p>

"You're late," was the first thing out of his mouth upon seeing her.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and thrust the shirt on top of the pile of them towards him. She'd put several of them on the company's card in case a similar incident happened in the future – Mrs. Woods' little barbs about the blond prat led her to believe that he frequently showed up for work in less than appropriate condition.

"I'm not late; you still have a few minutes before your meeting."

She couldn't help but notice his strong back and chest when he took off his jacket without a single care about her presence still in the room. Had she not noticed the Dark Mark marring his left arm and gone cold, Hermione may have done some completely inappropriate ogling of her surprisingly fit boss.

He finished buttoning up his shirt and held his hand out for the potion that would banish most of his hangover symptoms.

Hermione was careful not to let her skin come into contact with his when she gave him the small bottle. She didn't want his snaky skin to come into contact with hers; there would probably be some kind of Slytherin contamination if it did.

"Straighten out my office or something while I'm gone," he called over his shoulder as he walked out the door, putting his jacket on as he went.

"I headed an entire department at the Ministry and here I am reduced to janitorial staff," she grumbled to herself. At first glance, the office looked relatively tidy, but that facade only held until she glanced under his desk.

There were wads of paper and what looked like half of a sandwich wadded under there, along with his briefcase. Intrigued, she stuck her head in the space where the chair was meant to pull up to the desk and took a closer look at the briefcase.

It was propped open, so she had no trouble seeing its contents. There was a large bottle of Firewhiskey – three quarters empty, a pair of handcuffs, a pineapple, and a bra that was obviously made for breasts quite a bit larger than Hermione's. Not a single paper or file in the while mess of it. Malfoy obviously didn't believe in bringing his work home with him, but had no problem letting his partying effect his work the next day.

She closed the briefcase with disgust, swept the papers and sandwich into the rubbish bin, and looked around the office for something else out of place. Everything seemed to be in order. Cleaning wasn't part of her job description, and Hermione had no intention of making herself look busy while she waited for Malfoy to come back from his meeting.

She slipped out of his office and went looking for Mrs. Woods. The woman was nowhere to be found, but she did come across the boardroom where Malfoy was giving a presentation of some sort. She could see inside the room through a large window that took up the majority of one wall.

He didn't seem hung-over anymore and he was addressing the people watching him with charisma and an easy charm that captured their attention and gave him an air of power. After witnessing the scene, she found it a little easier to understand how it was that he was CEO of a company –even if it was one owned by his family- while being so irresponsible.

Just as she was about to turn away and find something productive to do while she waited for his meeting to end, Malfoy's grey eyes caught sight of her standing there watching. She looked away quickly and turned around to walk back to his office as fast as she could without running. Something about the way he's looked at her had her spooked. He'd spent too much time schooling his expression into an unreadable mask over the years for her to be able to pinpoint what it was about the look that bothered her, but there was a flash of _something_ in his eyes that had thrown her off kilter.

Not much later, Malfoy returned from his meeting. The former Slytherin breezed right past her without comment and headed to his desk. He continued to ignore her presence as he pulled out his briefcase and grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Merlin, I hate meetings."

Hermione watched with a mixture of disbelief and disapproval as he poured himself a large glass and drank it down in a few gulps.

"Don't look at me in that disapproving, Granger way of yours," he said, setting the glass down with an audible clink. Where had he even _found _that glass? He must keep them in the desk drawers for just such an occasion.

"Look at you like you just pulled an entire presentation out of your arse and strutted around like you had all the answers while wearing what I'm assuming is the same clothes you wore yesterday and no socks?"

He scowled and poured himself another glass, filling it right up to the rim this time. "I'll have you know I didn't pull the entire thing out of my arse, a small portion of it was prepared as I walked to the conference room."

The golden Firewhiskey disappeared down his throat as if he was racing himself to see if he could finish it faster than the first.

"Malfoy, how do you manage to function?" she asked, frustrated with his monumental irresponsibility. Coming to work with a hangover was one thing, but to drink while at work like he was a fish in desperate need of liquid was something else entirely.

"Ample amounts of Firewhiskey and hiring boring swots like you to hang around and use your natural prude abilities to kill all the fun and get work done."

When he reached for the bottle of Firewhiskey to pour himself a third glass, Hermione stepped forward and snatched it out of his hand. "I can feel my 'prude abilities' kicking in right now. You shouldn't be drink during work hours –much less _at work _- particularly not so much so fast."

"What the hell brought you out of the Ministry cave you'd holed yourself up in? Why couldn't you have just stayed there instead of showing up here to be my own personal bringer of misery?" he demanded. His voice was almost angry, but the look in his eye as he stared at the bottle was very near plaintive.

"Ministry cutbacks, they disbanded my department," she snipped, not wanting to reveal the sad memory of having to leave her job to her personal, childhood bully.

"Well, now you're moving up from pathetic Ministry drone to the personal assistant to the CEO of Malfoy Incorporated."

She smiled a fake smile. "Lucky me."

The relaxed demeanour Malfoy had been wearing until that moment dropped into a serious, searching expression. "Yes Granger, lucky you. I imagine Mrs. Woods must be really desperate to hire someone considering the Ministry sent out a message that no one is to hire you."

He didn't watch her reaction, instead fishing around in his desk for something.

"What're you talking about, Malfoy?"

The blond ignored her for a moment while he continued to rifle through drawers. Hermione was just starting to get frustrated enough to ask him again when he smirked in triumph and pulled out another bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I'm saying that you've been applying for a lot of jobs but aren't having much luck actually getting one despite being goody-goody Hermione Granger, yes?" He poured himself another glass while she nodded. "Two weeks ago they sent out an order to the Human Resources department of several major employers in the area. It appears my underlings have hired you in spite of this, and I'm going to allow it because I've never been one to squander an opportunity to disobey the Ministry while staying within the law."

He stared down at his glass while he took a sip and when he looked back up at her again, gone was the relatively harmless alcoholic. Hermione could see in his eyes a dark threat that reminded her that the man before her had once been a Death Eater. "However, should whatever quarrel you have with the Ministry make it here to impact my company, not only will you be fired, I will make sure you'll never work in this country again. Understood?"

Hermione was not meek, but she could only nod when faced with so much intensity.

His mouth twisted into a razor slice of a smile that held no amusement. "Good. Now give me back my Firewhiskey and go home. You've passed your interview, I'll see you tomorrow."

She should have been pleased that she had a job, but all Hermione could seem to muster up was a vague relief that she wasn't going to lose her flat. Malfoy had obviously dismissed her for the day, so she turned and left the room with his Firewhiskey. The prat may have ordered her to give it back, but if he was ever going to get any work done, she was going to have to start keeping him from the alcohol and she didn't want to start off her job with him thinking she was a pushover.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: Hello readers! Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing. **

**This chapter is now Beta-ed! A huge thanks to DramioneLover123 for volunteering to beta the rest of this story!**

**Also, the italics are a flashback.**

**~Frosty**

Hermione made sure to show up early the next day. She wanted to get there before Malfoy so she could search his office and remove all the alcohol. It wouldn't do for her to take one bottle away from him only to watch as he dug around and found another one hidden in his desk or behind a book on what she believed were purely decorative bookshelves.

Glancing around at the empty corridors outside of Malfoy's overly expensive door, she felt a little bit like a spy or something, going behind enemy lines and removing potential threats. She tried the doorknob and was pleased to find that it was unlocked, making it easy for her to slip inside.

There was no light in the room, save for a barely visible glow coming from the red embers resting in the grate. A wave of her wand had the candles lit and the window shades open, washing the room in bright light.

When she turned around, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin; sprawled across the sofa still in the outfit from the day before was her new boss.

He groaned at the light and threw an arm over his eyes. "What the hell, Granger? You're not supposed to be here for an hour."

Hermione ignored his question. "Did you sleep in your office?"

"No, I just like to do my work in complete darkness while stretching out on the sofa."

"You're wearing the same thing you wore yesterday."

He glanced down at his suit and shrugged. "I slept in my office; you can hardly expect me to keep a few spare suits here."

When she saw an idea dawning in his eyes, Hermione got a little worried, knowing she wasn't going to like whatever was about to come out of his mouth. She thought it would be perfectly reasonable to keep a spare suit at the office; it would save him from wearing the same thing three days in a row. Without cleaning spells, he would probably reek.

"My ex is a bit of a psycho and had taken to breaking through the wards and crawling into bed with me," he shuddered. "I need you to go to my house and pick up another suit for me."

Hermione puffed up indignantly. "I'm not some... some-"

"Errand girl? I beg to differ. Now get a move on." Malfoy sounded entirely too pleased with himself while he made shooing motions at her.

There really wasn't much she could say to that. With a few muttered curses under her breath, she was out the door.

A floo trip later, Hermione found herself standing in the opulent bedroom of Draco Malfoy.

His closet had been easy enough to find, it was the biggest set of doors in the room. When Hermione opened them, she found the largest closet she'd ever seen. For someone who seemed content to wear the same suit for days because he was scared to go home, Malfoy sure had an awfully large collection of clothes.

She'd gathered a few suits and thrown them over her arm when she heard a sound coming from back inside the bedroom. Visions of axe-wielding 'psycho ex girlfriends' were running through her head as she peeked around the door with her wand gripped tightly in her hand.

What she actually saw completely shattered any worry she may have been feeling. Sitting on Malfoy's bed in a skimpy white gown was one of the most petite women Hermione had ever seen.

She had long, perfectly straight blonde hair that went down past her waist and _almost _hid the handcuffs that were keeping one of her arms attached to the footboard. Hermione couldn't help but notice that her breasts, of course, were disproportionately large on her petite frame.

"Um... Hello," Hermione said awkwardly. She was wondering whether she should be offering to free the girl or not. As bad as he could be, she somehow doubted Malfoy would chain her to the bed and then avoid her for as long as possible. He may be unstable, but he was logical; why would he trap something in a place he regularly visited?

"Who are you?" the girl asked, sounding like a child who was about to have a favourite toy taken away.

That was just what she needed; the jealous lover of the boss she hated coming after her. She was going to need a raise if this type of situation was going to be a regular occurrence.

"I'm the new assistant. He didn't handcuff you to the bed and leave you there, did he?"

The girl opened her mouth and giggled a slightly insane laugh. "Dray would never to that to me. I'm just waiting for him here."

Hermione nodded and got out of there as fast as she could manage.

Malfoy hadn't moved a millimetre when she stumbled out of the Floo and into his office. She chucked the armful of material at him.

"You neglected to mention that she'd _handcuffed _herself to your _bed_."

To his credit, Malfoy seemed just as surprised to hear the woman was handcuffed to his bed as Hermione had been to see it. "When I left, she was clutching my leg and wailing as I tried to escape, not handcuffed to anything. Even had I known, I wouldn't have told you, your reaction amuses me to no end."

She would have said something in response, but he started shucking his clothing, not caring that she was still in the room.

Mortified, Hermione turned around. "Malfoy! You don't just change in front of people without at least warning them first."

She heard rustling and then a zipper as he put on new pants.

"And yet, here we are."

_You need the money, you need the money_, Hermione repeated in her head like a mantra. She had a feeling she was going to have to keep reminding herself of that fact.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, that mantra was something she would cling to during her first week. It had been particularly helpful when her new boss had skipped a meeting with the press and made her cover for him. After making his excuses, she'd found him perched on a fire escape smoking something she knew wasn't a cigarette.<p>

_Hermione had been frantically searching the entire office building –which she now knew was over twenty stories, all of them just packed with places Malfoy could hide. There was a boardroom of impatient officials waiting for him and they hadn't been all that eager to continue waiting for her missing boss while she went to search for the git._

_She never would have found him if one of the janitorial staff hadn't taken pity on her and suggested she check the fourteenth floor's fire escape. She'd been a little sceptical, but hadn't had any better ideas, so she immediately got into one of the lifts and rode it to the fourteenth floor._

_To her great surprise and annoyance, Malfoy was out there, calm as could be and smoking... _something. _Hermione didn't have enough experience with magical drugs to have any idea what it was, she didn't even know if it was legal – knowing Malfoy, it probably wasn't. _

"_Malfoy! There's a boardroom full of people waiting for you and you're out here smoking!" she yelled. _

_Hermione had never liked heights, but she knew she wasn't going to be able to make Malfoy come inside without actually going out there to get him. She took a calming breath before bending over and climbing outside onto the tiny platform. Malfoy obligingly made room for her._

"_Smoke, Granger?" he asked, offering her one._

_Doing her best not to look down, Hermione snatched both the one he was smoking and the one he'd offered and made to throw them over the railing and to the ground, but Malfoy was too fast for her._

_Before she could throw them, the blond had grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them to the wall on either side of her head. _

_He leaned in close; his dilated pupils making his eyes look darker than their usual stormy grey. "Granger, I was giving you an opportunity to dislodge that cactus you've obviously got shoved somewhere uncomfortable, and you repay me for my kindness by ruining all my fun?"_

_Hermione wanted to cringe away from the strangely sweet-smelling smoke that clung to his clothes and breathe as it fanned across her face. In her efforts to avoid the intense stare of his darkened eyes, she inadvertently did something she'd been carefully avoiding since she'd first stepped out on the fire escape: looked down._

_Immediately, the colour drained from her face and she started to feel a little dizzy. On top of that, her stomach dropped to somewhere near her knees and she was experiencing a feeling similar to falling, as if in anticipation of the fall her overactive phobia told her was about to happen._

_Malfoy noticed the change in her and dropped her hands. "Calm down Granger, I wasn't going to hurt you."_

_She closed her eyes and shook her head minutely, not wanting to throw off her balance and plummet to the ground. "It's not that, I afraid of heights. Just help me back inside the window."_

_As soon as the request left her lips, Hermione knew Malfoy was going to laugh at her. Why would he forgo a prime opportunity to upset her? He wouldn't._

_That was why she was so shocked when she felt gentle hands on her shoulders turning her around. She allowed him to take her hands and place them on the windowsill and place a comforting palm on the small of her back._

"_Just climb in, I won't let you fall," he said in a calm voice. She could feel that he was standing right behind her, ready to act as a barrier between her and the railing with the long drop on the other side._

_Shakily, she climbed back into the building, where she slid down the wall and relaxed against the nice, solid wall. Finally on firm ground, Hermione opened her eyes to see that Malfoy had followed her inside, whatever he was smoking no longer in sight._

"_You're afraid of heights?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked in question._

"_Yes," she snipped. "Now get to your meeting before everyone leaves, the company collapses and I have to find a new job."_

_The eyebrow rose even further. "You're ordering me around while in a heap on the floor?"_

"_Just go."_

_Surprisingly, he did. _

That same day, he'd announced that she was going to need to show up at his house and wake him up for a meeting in the morning because 'he was going to be having a party and wasn't confident that his bed was going to exist when it was over, much less his alarm clock'. It seemed he wasn't worried about his insane ex bothering him at his home anymore.

That was how Hermione ended up standing in the middle of Malfoy's bedroom at five in the morning. She looked around, surprised that there was minimal damage to anything; it seemed he had overestimated the party.

Further investigation into the room revealed that Malfoy was peacefully asleep in his bed and he appeared to be alone. Why in the world was she even there if everything seemed to be as it should?

"Malfoy?" Hermione called softly, hoping for him to wake up so she could get out of there.

He didn't stir, merely rolled over so she had a better view of his naked chest. Hermione prayed he at least had boxer shorts on under those expensive sheets; work was awkward enough without having seen her boss completely naked.

"MALFOY!" she screeched, smirking when he sat up and stared at her with wide eyes.

"Oh, it's just you, Granger," he said, relaxing back into his earlier horizontal position. "Listen, there's some strippers locked in the loo, and it'd be great if you could get rid of them for me."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

She huffed irritably. "If you'd stop sleeping with crazy women, or so _many _of them, you wouldn't have these problems. I'm not dealing with them. Now get your arse out of bed and dressed so you'll be on time for the meeting because there's no way in hell I'm going to cover for you _again_."

In her week of working for him, Hermione found that Malfoy would pretty much do what he wanted no matter what she said to him. She'd also found that insulting and lecturing him made her feel better. As a result, she'd taken to speaking with him as she would to Harry or Ron when they were acting like idiots. She didn't hold back any of her disapproval.

The blond on the bed sighed and rubbed his temples in an attempt to soothe the headache that was developing there. "Any chance you haven't already swept the house and removed all the alcohol?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I did that as soon as I got here."

She'd found that Malfoy liked to be abusing alcohol as frequently as possible and had made it her personal mission to eliminate as many of his vices as was physically possible. Alcohol had been the place to start and already, she'd managed to cut his drinking in half by merely taking every bottle she could find.

Malfoy made an irritated sound and dug around under his pillow until he pulled out a flask. He folded one arm behind his head, leant against the headboard and sipped, scanning the room. "Looks like we kept the damage to a minimum," he observed.

Hermione wasn't listening to him; she was submerged in his closet looking for something for him to wear. She grabbed a suit and a shirt and threw them to the prone figure on the bed.

Taking another leisurely sip, Malfoy looked Hermione up and down much like he had on her very fist day. "You know, Granger, you have half decent legs. If you ever pulled that stick out of your arse and wore a skirt that went a little above the knees, you might manage to attract a bookworm mate."

Hermione wasn't quite used to his sexual harassment yet, but she was getting better and better, she didn't blush in the slightest bit and managed to keep her rage to a minimum. Her desperation to have him on time for the meeting, however, hadn't waned in the least.

"I'll go home and change into a shorter skirt if you get dressed right now. And put on a tie too!"

She watched him think about it. After a minute he dragged himself out of the bed, bringing the pants with him. Hermione was relieved to see that he did in fact have pants on.

He snapped his fingers and an elf appeared. It stayed there and listened to his breakfast order. Hermione looked on disapprovingly, but she just didn't want to have _that _fight so early in the morning.

"Fine. You go home and change and then meet me back at the office. Make sure you come back here first to let the strippers out, or at least have the elves give them food. You have no idea how hard it is to cover up a death."

Hermione glanced at the trembling elf beside her. "I really hope he's joking," she sighed, knowing that if he had murdered someone, it was probably going to come out while she was working to prevent him from a negative public image. With the way things had been going for her lately, she wouldn't be surprised if all his dirty little secrets came out for air – at the same time.

Just in case he was telling the truth, Hermione leant down to the elf's level. "If he really does have people trapped in here somewhere, let them out once we leave."

The shameless git was shucking his clothes again, so Hermione couldn't even direct a scathing look towards him. She rolled her eyes and Apparated home to change her skirt.

Malfoy was lounging at his desk when she got back. "You're late," he said when she rushed into the room. "And that skirt's no shorter than the last one."

"It is. It's three centimetres shorter."

"We had a deal," he said, irritated.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I never promised it would be significantly shorter, and you're still not wearing socks, so your point is moot anyway."

She collected the files she was to be organizing that day and settled in one of the guest chairs in front of Malfoy's desk. The prat had refused to get her a desk of her own, insisting that the woman who had done her job before her had only ever done paperwork once a month and never required a desk. Hermione was starting to believe the woman before her had been his mother and she'd given up on her hopeless cause of a son.

"You're shuffling papers too loud," he complained after a few minutes.

"If you were doing anything other than laying your head on the desk and trying to recover from a hangover, then I _may_ have cared."

"You're heartless, Granger."

"You're just bitter because you're sober. Why don't you use this prime opportunity to do some work?"

"Wouldn't want to ruin my image, or raise your expectations of me."

Frustrated, Hermione finally looked up from the paperwork to meet the bloodshot eyes of her employer. "Why would you want people to think you're a drunken idiot?"

"I _am_ a drunken idiot," he muttered.

"A week ago when I came in here I believed that, but you're talking to the person who's been spending entirely too much time keeping you in line for the past several days. A lack of intelligence isn't your issue; it's a complete lack of motivation."

The git wasn't listening; he had opened his jacket and was shuffling around in the pocket on the inside. Hermione watched him pull out a shiny silver flask and bring it to his lips.

She'd learned that getting angry with him was pointless and completely ineffective. The only thing her anger would accomplish was raising her blood pressure. It was with perfect calm that she snatched the flask from his hand and tucked it into her own pocket before he'd managed to take a sip.

"I should fire you," he grumbled.

Hermione continued flipping papers. "It won't be easy to find someone to replace me."

His grumbling didn't stop, but he didn't speak loud enough for her to hear him again. She appreciated the peace and quiet she got when he left for the meeting, but it wasn't long before he was back and she was forced to ignore his illegible mutterings and constant attempts to find alcohol bottles.

Hermione was just about to leave for the day when Malfoy called her back. "Wait a minute Granger."

He stood from his chair and walked over to her until they were almost nose to nose. Hermione wanted to back away, but she knew he would take that as a sign of weakness, and she refused to be weak in front of the git.

"What?" she demanded irritably. Dealing with him during the workday was one thing, she got paid for it then, but after hours was another thing altogether.

Malfoy didn't say anything, instead, he pressed him large, warm palm against her waist.

For someone with such a foul personality, he wasn't entirely unattractive. She could understand how it was he managed to find so many girls perfectly willing to crawl into bed with him, but she wasn't going to be one of them.

"Malfoy, what do you think you're doing?"

He pressed closer and slid his hand lightly over the curve of her hip.

Internally, Hermione was cursing herself for not immediately stepping back and hexing him. Instead, she found herself leaning into his touch as if in a trance, her mind going back to the incident on the fire escape. The former Slytherin was magnetic when he put him mind to it, which was probably why he managed to get away with his careless way of life.

"Getting my flask back," he said smugly, pulling his hand back to reveal he'd pulled it right out of her pocket.

Hermione didn't even bother taking it from him again; she was too humiliated and furious with herself. Without rising to the challenge she saw in his eyes, she turned around and stormed out of his office, glad it was Friday and she wouldn't have to deal with him for a whole two days.

* * *

><p>Emotionally exhausted from her run in with Malfoy, Hermione Apparated back to her flat and snuggled on the sofa with a cup of tea and some toast. It wasn't much of a dinner, but she just didn't feel like cooking or doing anything at the moment. She was going to wallow in shame that she'd allowed herself to become just another girl drawn in by Draco Malfoy's charm.<p>

She was just starting to nod off over her tea when there was a whoosh from the fireplace as it spit someone out into her living room.

"Hermione?"

"Harry? I'm in here," she called.

She didn't bother opening her eyes as she listened to his footsteps cross over to where she was sitting. The cushion dipped beside her as his weight settled there.

"Hermione... I count seven bottles of Firewhiskey lined up on the kitchen counter. Is this job hunt getting to you that much?"

Her eyes finally opened to look at her friend. His concerned expression warmed her. "I have the alcohol _because _I have a job."

Harry made a questioning face.

"My job is to keep my boss from making a fool of himself. The alcohol isn't mine; I've been taking it from him."

"Where do you work?" he asked.

Hermione sighed; she'd known that question was going to come out sooner or later. "Malfoy Industries."

His green eyes widened. "Your boss isn't..."

"Draco Malfoy."

Harry sat back, looking shell-shocked. "Wow,"

"Yeah."

"Is he as much of a prat as he was in school?"

She sighed. "He's not as prejudiced, I've yet to hear the word 'Mudblood' from him, but I do have to constantly take the alcohol form him."

"You're still looking for other jobs, right?"

"Yes, but Malfoy says the Ministry's sent out a message that I shouldn't be hired. The only reason I have a job now is because I'm good at keeping Malfoy in line and he has no problem ignoring the Ministry."

Harry's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Ever since Malfoy had told her about the missive, Hermione had been trying to get an appointment with anyone within the Ministry she could with no success. She'd even tried going there and demanding an audience with someone. To her immense irritation, she'd found that someone had barred her access inside the Ministry buildings.

She explained all of this to Harry.

"Would you mind looking into it from the inside?"

Harry nodded, looking determined. "Don't worry Hermione, I'll find out what's going on."

She smiled her thanks, though it wobbled a little at the corners and ruined the image.

He put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I can't believe you've been working for _Malfoy_."

"Me either," she mumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: Once again, a huge thanks to DramioneLover123 for betaing! Also thanks to all you lovely reviewers!**

**Okay, I don't think I've told you guys yet, but this story is completely finished and relatively short. It's only 7 chapters and around 25 000 words... Just so you know.**

**With the triumphant return of my now-fixed computer, I'm able to post and work on fanfiction again! There was a rough patch for a while there when ms word wasn't working... It's not like I use that with anything resembling frequency what with my fanfiction writing thing and the 4 000 word essay I have to write today. *sigh***

**Happy reading!**

**~Frosty**

Harry hadn't left until late at night, so Hermione took advantage of the weekend and slept in late. She needed the extra rest after the difficult week she'd had dealing with Malfoy. Her new job had given her a new respect for her mother; Hermione only had to take care of a child for work hours, she could only imagine how bad it would be all the time!

When she woke up on Saturday, she regretted her decision the night before to turn off her usual alarm. She felt groggy and stiff from her period of prolonged inactivity. Sleeping in was great, but there was such thing as too much of something good, and Hermione seemed to have reached the limit.

As she walked into the loo, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced. The tumble of curls that lived on her head had tripled in size while she'd tossed and turned in her sleep!

It was a good thing no one was going to see her-

"You look like something was strangled to death by your hair, and it put up one hell of a fight."

She started and turned to the sofa, where Malfoy was lounging like he didn't have a care in the world. The foul git didn't seem to mind at all that he had invaded her home, probably breaking several laws to do so.

"Malfoy, its Saturday. One of the two days of the week I'm _not _paid to deal with you, so what are you doing in my home?" Hermione had to work hard keep her tone from shaking with anger. She still hadn't forgiven him for practically molesting her, and she still hadn't forgiven _herself _for almost enjoying it. The weekend was supposed to have been her time to gather herself back together so she could face him again.

"I got a letter from both Potter and the Ministry this morning. The former said that he's going to stick his nose into business that isn't his and probably make the situation worse. The latter was an official summons to report to the Ministry for questioning."

Hermione was not a morning person. Malfoy was even more of a nuisance in the morning. If he didn't leave soon, something was going to give, and it would probably be her temper.

"Fine, I'm fired. Get out of my flat."

Malfoy's silver eyes rolled to the ceiling. Remarkably, they weren't bloodshot and he was more alert than she was. It was a first.

"You're not fired. I'm actually here to do my good deed for the year." He looked around at the parts of her flat he could see. "I got word from an old... colleague of mine that someone's out to get you. I suggest you strengthen your wards and keep an eye out for trouble."

His eyes landed on the confiscated Firewhiskey and stopped. A flick of his wrist had one of the bottles resting snugly in his hand.

Hermione was too surprised that Malfoy could use wand less, wordless magic to scold him about drinking so early in the morning. She opened and closed her mouth, gaping like a fish; it was one thing to know Malfoy wasn't as inept as he seemed, it was another thing entirely to witness his competence firsthand. Even Hermione had difficulty with non verbal, wand less magic and she had topped all of their classes during school – with the exclusion of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but she didn't speak of that.

He caught her idiotic expressing and gave her a questioning look. "You're not going to yell at me for trying to drink before noon?"

With a little bit of effort, she managed to pull herself together. If she didn't know better, she'd say Malfoy was trying to make up for the incident with the flask by making a situation where she could get over her discomfort by yelling at him.

She just wasn't in the mood to accept whatever charity Malfoy was trying to offer to make up for being a complete ass. "What you do on the weekend is your own business; just keep it out of the papers."

For the briefest moment, she was sure she saw disappointment flash across his face. Maybe the git was some kind of masochist who got off when people yelled at him. She had to dismiss that thought immediately, or she wouldn't be able to yell at him anymore without feeling awkward and she derived too much pleasure from yelling at him to just give it up. Scarcely could she imagine getting through a day of working with him without fitting in at least one through scolding in there.

"Not even a reprimand for invading your privacy and breaking into your home?" he asked.

"I'll see you on Monday," she told him firmly. Had she not been fully confident that he was harmless and had accomplished whatever mischief he'd intended, Hermione would never have turned her back on him. As it was, she knew whatever reason he had for coming was fulfilled, so she had no problem leaving the room to go have a shower.

When she was clean and her hair was back under control, she looked into the living room. Malfoy was gone; all was as it should be.

* * *

><p>Hermione had a Sunday dinner to attend with Harry and Ginny. She'd decided that Malfoy's warning was just something he'd designed to unhinge her, but she strengthened the wards around her flat just in case. The only way anyone would be able to break in would be with a lot of work and a gift for unravelling spells.<p>

"You, missy, have some explaining to do," Ginny said upon first seeing her bushy-haired friend.

Hermione assumed Harry had told his girlfriend about her new job. She opened her mouth to explain why she'd kept it a secret from them, but, in her usual hyper fashion, Ginny just bowled right over her words.

"How could you be working with _Draco Malfoy_ and not have told me? Is he still as mouth-watering as he was during school?"

That last one threw the brunette off a little. "You're upset because... you could have been gossiping about what my boss looked like under his suits?"

Her red hair waved around her face as she nodded frantically. "Yes! Are you telling me you've seen him without his clothes on?"

"I'm just going to... throw up now," Harry said, looking a little gray around the edges.

Ginny waved him off before turning back to her friend "Talk!"

Hermione put a weary hand to her forehead; she could tell already that it was going to be a _long _visit.

* * *

><p>It was late when Hermione finally got back to her flat. Very, <em>very <em>late. Ginny had kept her talking about one of her least favourite topics _for hours_, until Harry finally intervened and freed her from Ginny's clutches. Sometimes she wondered how in the world she was friends with the redhead, but then she would remember that they were so different they just clicked, Ginny was easy to talk to, even if it was about Malfoy, which was how she managed to make Hermione spill everything that had happened so far – minus the one, insignificant detail of that little weekend visit of his and the subsequent warning. She saw no reason worrying her friend about something that would probably turn out to be nothing.

By the time Hermione stumbled through her door, it was almost time to start work. She was only going to have two hours to sleep before she had to report to the office. Only two hours of sleep would be a _wonderful _way to make her Monday morning just that little bit more unpleasant. The only consolation was that Malfoy would most likely be just as miserable as her – possibly more miserable because he probably had a hangover to top off the sleep deprivation.

Something crunched as she stepped through her door, drawing her eyes to her shoe. The floor was scattered with sharp shards of glass. Those definitely hadn't been there when she left…

Drawing her wand, Hermione flipped on the lights. She gasped in horror when she saw that someone had torn apart what looked like everything she owned. It seemed that her wards weren't as good as she'd thought; either that or whoever had invaded her home was really good at what they did.

It seemed that Malfoy had been telling the truth when he said someone was out to get her, but _why_? Why would someone do something so horrible to her? Sure, she had some enemies - you can't go through a war without acquiring some – but who would put so much effort in destroying everything she owned? No one specific came to mind.

With a shiver, she realized the vandal could still be in her flat, lying in wait until she walked past unsuspecting. She raised her wand in front of her and carefully walked from room to room, heart racing and hands clammy, but with her wand hand steady.

"_Homenum Revelio"_ she whispered. Nothing.

No one was there, but their message was clear; someone wanted to scare her.

It had worked.

Hermione glanced at her watch, wondering what she should do. It wasn't all that early, and the Malfoy Industries building was probably open already. It looked like she was going to start her Monday even earlier than she'd planned.

She locked her door, reinstated the wards and Apparated to Malfoy's office, the last place she believed anyone would think she'd go after the shock of seeing her home in shambles. If the war had taught her anything, it was that unpredictable actions were what would keep you alive.

"Granger?" Malfoy slurred when she popped into the room. It was a reasonable guess, even if he couldn't see her well in the darkness; there was a very short list of people who would have been allowed through the wards protecting his office, and she was one of those few.

"Malfoy!" she squeaked, startled. Looking over him for a moment, she pushed aside her fear and switched to anger. "You're drunk. AGAIN."

He hiccupped at her. "This time it's your fault. You yell at me and it makes me feel like someone cares, but even you've given up on me now. I'm a lost cause."

She didn't know what she was supposed to say to that, so she only shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare. He straightened slightly when he noticed the state she was in. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair even more so, and she had small cuts on her hands from accidentally cutting her finger on a jagged piece of glass. The pallor of her face and the tightness of her shoulders and jaw said she was still afraid under her anger.

"What happened to _you_?" he asked, sounding more sober than before.

"Someone broke into my flat and broke pretty much everything."

His head tilted to the side while he processed what she'd said, making him look a little like a deranged, drunken bird.

Without warning, he stepped forward and swept her up in a bone-crushing hug that smelled of alcohol and something that was purely Malfoy. After the scare she'd just had, the human contact was just what she needed, it didn't even matter that it was Malfoy and she had no idea what the motivation behind his kind gesture were. For all she knew, he could just be trying to get her guard down so he could grab her arse.

Hermione hated girly moments, but everything she owned had just been destroyed and it had given her quite a scare. Her personal space had been invaded and someone who had proven themselves more than capable of breaking her wards was out to get her. She felt like deserved a little break from being the strong one. Gradually, she relaxed against him and accepted the comfort he was offering.

Either from lack of balance or because he couldn't hold her up anymore, Malfoy fell to the leather sofa laid out in his office, bringing Hermione down with him.

She settled against him, wiggling a little until she was pressed close to his form, sharing his warmth. "Don't think this means I'm going to be one of your conquests."

Malfoy laughed. "You could never be one of my conquests, Granger."

It stung a little that he obviously didn't even consider her female – because that seemed to be his only requirement in his women. She dismissed the feeling quickly by reminding herself she didn't care what Malfoy thought about her as long as he didn't send her back to her flat. Oddly enough, she knew he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

* * *

><p>She woke to a strange sound. If she hadn't known that she was in Malfoy's office she would have been sure that it was the scratching of a quill on parchment. But that was impossible; she was the only one who ever did any work in there.<p>

"What time is it?" she rasped, her voice gravelly from sleep. If her grogginess was any indication, she'd been sleeping for quite a while, which was understandable considering she hadn't slept the night before.

With no small amount of mortification, she remembered falling asleep literally _on top _of a drunken Malfoy. She could only be thankful that she wasn't still pressed against him, something sure to make an uncomfortable situation unbearably awkward.

"Just after four, you've been snoring there all day."

Hermione sat up and stared at Malfoy. Normally, she would have been focused on the fact that she'd spent hours sleeping while he watched over her, or that he'd accused her of snoring – something she knew she did _not _do. However, something even more disturbing was distracting her from those pressing matters.

"Malfoy, are you _working_? And _sober_?" She wasn't sure which one was more startling.

"You obviously weren't in a condition to keep me in line. I'll be docking your pay for this failure on your part."

Something soft in his eyes told her that this wasn't the truth. The prat was trying to hide his act of kindness behind snarky comments. Hermione wasn't going to let him get away with that. He'd done a good thing and she was going to acknowledge it despite his not so subtle hint that she should just pretend it never happened and go back to the way things had been before his uncharacteristic actions.

"Thank you," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His attention didn't appear to waver from the paper in front of him, but Hermione knew better. And she still wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"Thank you for holding me when I needed it and-"

"I was drunk."

"Not as drunk as you'd like to me to think you were, and you're completely sober now, yet you still let me sleep peacefully on your sofa while you did actual work – something that had to grate against your sense of what's right in the world."

Hermione sat up, looking with mild confusion at the blanket covering her. Malfoy had let her sleep _and _given her a blanket? Her movements finally made him look up from his papers.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and in the future, I would appreciate it if you tell your friends where you are before you collapse onto my sofa. They've been rather persistent with their owls. In fact, I believe Potter's looking everywhere for you, he's already stopped by twice." He sounded downright gleeful that he got to tell Harry no, and that he knew where she was while Harry was left to desperately search for her.

"Malfoy, have you been misleading my friends about where I was while they've been looking for me?" She wasn't actually angry; his actions were expected from a Malfoy. Just because he did something nice for her didn't mean he was going to do it again or for anyone else. Still, a normal human would have at _least _let her friends know where she was and that she was unharmed.

"They're out in the main office, harassing Mrs. Woods. She has orders not to let anyone in here unless I say so."

She had a bit of a headache luring in the back of her mind, ready to grow larger and strike at the worst possible moment as they tended to do. It would be best to go out and face her friends before they'd worked themselves up into an even worse state then they were already undoubtedly in.

However... it _was_ nice to imagine the horribly unpleasant Mrs. Woods having to deal with a group of distraught Gryffindor's. If it wouldn't have been prolonging the worry of her friends, Hermione may have lay back down and slept more, giving Mrs. Woods some time to deal with them.

With a sigh, Hermione walked over to Malfoy's door and opened it, feeling his eyes on her back the entire time.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled, pushing aside Mrs. Woods and embracing his friend. "I _knew_ Malfoy was up to something when he wouldn't let us in his office!"

It was obvious that Harry hadn't slept a wink after she'd left his house; he had that pale and sagging look that people develop when they go too long without rest.

"You can't just disappear when your home is completely trashed, we were so worried! Are you all right?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length so he could look her up and down, scanning for injuries.

"I'm fine Harry. I was a little distraught when I saw my flat in that state, so I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I came into work early and fell asleep on Malfoy's sofa. How'd you know something had happened?"

"Ginny noticed that you'd forgotten to take a slice of cake home with you and insisted we bring you one immediately." He rolled his eyes. "You know how she is. She came back saying that your place was in ruins and you were nowhere to be found."

Harry was swaying a little on his feet. The adrenalin that he'd been running on since he'd noticed his friend was gone was starting to wear off.

"Harry, go home and tell Ginny I'm fine, then the both of you need to get some sleep," she ordered.

He nodded, giving her one last look to make sure she was unharmed before Apparating away.

Hermione returned to Malfoy's office. She had an hour or so left in the workday and she was going to do actual work for that hour. She'd survived a war for heaven's sake, she could take one little break in without become a wobbling blob of jell-o.

When she opened the office door again, she found Malfoy standing with his jacket over his arm, ready to go home. "I'm making it an early day and going home."

She rolled her eyes at him, quitting before the workday was over just because he'd had to do a few hours of actual work.

"You're coming with me," he continued.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but he was too quick for her. He'd wordlessly summoned her wand to himself and grabbed her arm in a surprisingly strong grip. They had Apparated before she even had time to struggle against him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: Hello readers! **

**Blocks of italics are flashbacks.**

**Thanks to DramioneLover123 for betaing and to all of the lovely people who reviewed!**

**This chapter's a little short, but chapter 2 was a little long, so it all evens out in the end. The length of time for the car trip in here was from google maps, so if I'm wrong, feel free to point it out... Kay?**

**Also, there's mention of popping a snail in this chapter... Has anyone else ever done this? You're walking around after it rains without shoes and there's snails everywhere and you accidentally step on one? It's horribly unpleasant, and then you feel bad because you killed it... Altogether icky experience. *shudders***

**~ Frosty**

"Malfoy! You can't just manhandle me like I'm your property!"

She struggled against his hold. There had to be a law somewhere against forced side-along Apparation. It was almost the same thing as kidnapping!

He let go of her and waited until she stopped yelling at him, arms crossed and looking completely unimpressed. "Are you finished?"

"No." Her voice was sullen and the protest had been more for the sake of protesting than because she had something else to say.

When she didn't elaborate after her one word answer, he continued. "Someone's out to get you - someone who knows how to get into your flat. You obviously can't stay there until whoever's it is has been caught. You can stay here until it's safe, my wards are practically as impenetrable as Hogwarts'."

If she was to think logically and not let her feelings on Malfoy interfere with the decision, what Malfoy was saying made perfect sense. But he was _Malfoy_. There had to be some sort of ulterior motive there, or a glaringly obvious flaw in his logic. The man who spent most of his time drinking himself into all kinds of trouble shouldn't make sense!

"What's in this for you?" she asked.

Malfoy shrugged. "You've been keeping me out of trouble and I hate to owe someone, so I'm doing the same for you, then we're even."

Hermione shook her head. "You have the strangest honour code. You realize you've been _paying _me for keeping you out of trouble."

"Inconsequential. You've been going beyond what I pay you for. Now let's have some dinner before I pass out from nutrition deprivation."

"I'd say you were being overdramatic, but I know how many meals you replace with alcohol. I think it might be a legitimate concern."

The blond scoffed but didn't disagree. He led the way towards the kitchen, leaving Hermione to follow in his wake. She rolled her eyes; apparently, he had decided their conversation was over.

The door to the kitchen was surprisingly plain considering the style of his office. Maybe Malfoy didn't share his father's dramatic and intimidating taste, which could be why he didn't live in the Manor. The decorating style of his home was actually similar to the simple look of her flat – with more expensive furnishings, of course.

They sat at the modest table and elves immediately set food in front of them. Hermione looked in surprise at what appeared to be fish and chips; she'd have thought something like that would be much too plain for Malfoy. She watched as he picked up a chip and ate it, not seeming to mind that his fingers were greasy. It seemed there was a side to Malfoy that she hadn't predicted, and it only took a few minutes in his home to see it.

"Malfoy," she started while she buttered a piece of bread for her chip butty – she knew it was horribly bad for her, carbohydrates with _more _carbohydrates and all that. But it was just so _good_. "Why haven't you commented on my parentage even once since I walked into your office?"

"I figure if I offend you, you'll be even more ruthless in your confiscating of my alcohol." He didn't make eye contact as he spouted off the line, and Hermione immediately saw the flaw in his lie. It was a rather large oversight for someone in Slytherin.

"You didn't comment on my parentage _before _you knew I was going to start taking your Firewhiskey."

He rolled his eyes as he made a sandwich identical to the one Hermione had constructed. "I spent several months in the Muggle world, it squashed out any Pureblood supremacist thoughts I may have had."

Their Muggle dinner made much more sense now that she knew he'd spent time among them. "Why did you go to the Muggle world?"

"I drunkenly stumbled out of the Leaky Cauldron into Muggle London one day. I woke up without my wand somewhere near Glasgow; it took me a while to find my way back."

"It took you months to travel what would be an eight hour drive in a Muggle car?" she asked in disbelief. How had he even managed to get so far so quickly without magic?

"There was quite a lot out there to distract me. Are you aware that Muggles have _hundreds _of different types of alcohol? We really only have Firewhiskey. I spent a month quite taken with tequila... I don't remember it very well, but I know I had a hell of a time. Coincidentally, I'm banned from several drinking establishments in the Glasgow area... and one knitting store – don't ask."

She didn't even want to know what Malfoy had done in a knitting store to get himself barred from entry, or what he'd been doing in the knitting store in the first place. She also wasn't sure she wanted to know how he'd managed to get Muggle money. He _had _been suspiciously good at stealing his flask back from her pocket without her even noticing.

"So you're over all that Pure-blooded nonsense you were always spouting off when we were in Hogwarts?"

He nodded. "If I had known all it took to get rid of an entire childhood's worth of lies was some alcohol and a trip to the Muggle world, I would have taken a field trip with the Death Eaters and ended the war early."

Startled by his joke, Hermione nearly choked on the bite of fish she'd been chewing. She had to take a sip of her drink in an attempt to stop her coughing fit. She was unsuccessful. Tears started streaming from her eyes and her face warmed up as she coughed.

Malfoy was grinning at her when she'd recovered – not a smirk, a genuine grin without any malice behind it. "Didn't think I could joke about past mistakes, Granger?"

She could only shake her head at him; he wasn't anything like she remembered him to be, or anything like what she would have thought him to be. He was a person, not the snake she'd always seen him as.

When dinner was finished, they stayed seated at the table as the elves cleared away their plates, both of them unsure what they were supposed to do next. The atmosphere got increasingly awkward and uncomfortable until Malfoy snapped and broke the silence.

"Let me show you to a guest room."

She hesitated. "I'm not going to wake up tied to the bed, am I?" The concern was a genuine one, but she tried to hide it behind a half-joking question.

"Only if you want to be, love." His answer wasn't as comforting as she'd hoped; she was relatively sure he'd oblige if she asked and that hadn't been the response she'd been expecting. Knowing he tolerated Muggleborns was strange enough, but knowing he'd actually sleep with her was a whole new level of disturbing.

Against her better judgement, Hermione followed him as he led her down a long corridor. She tried not to think about the hoards of other women who had walked down the same corridor with entirely different intentions.

"You know where my room is if you need anything," the git said with a wink, as he opened a door just down the hall from the one leading to his bedroom.

Hermione slipped into her room quickly and shut the door firmly behind her. She made sure that it was locked with a strong locking spell, partly because someone was out to get her and partly because she wasn't entirely sure Malfoy wouldn't tie her to the bed while she slept despite what he'd said about her willingness. She knew it was an unfounded and silly fear, but he was so unpredictable sometimes and his drive to irritate her had no end and few boundaries. It just wasn't worth the risk.

After tossing and turning for a few hours, she heard the quiet click of a door opening and then soft footsteps heading down the corridor. It seemed that Malfoy wasn't having much luck sleeping either.

She lay there staring at the ceiling for a while longer before deciding that she was going to see if Malfoy wanted some company. Not _that_ way; she wasn't going to sleep with him or anything, she just thought that if she was going to stay up all night, it might be nice to be able to talk to someone – even if it was Malfoy.

Decision made, she pulled a robe over the pyjamas she'd found in her room's closet, all the while hoping they were new and not some discarded garment from a long-gone conquest. She padded out in the hall in the direction she'd heard Malfoy go.

Having spent the last week hunting him down at work, Hermione was starting to get used to finding Malfoy. She'd discovered that he had a tendency to gravitate towards the outdoors, so that was where she headed first.

She found him lying in the dew wet grass with a bottle of Firewhiskey beside him, staring up at the bright stars. One thing she loved about the wizarding world was the lack of light pollution; it's hard to blot out the night sky with candlelight alone.

Hermione padded over to him, not caring that her toes were getting soaked and little leaves and bits of grass were sticking to them. There were probably bugs crawling around as well, but as long as she didn't pop a snail with bare feet, she'd be fine.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked when she sat cross-legged beside him.

"Someone's out to get me and I have no notion why and even less idea who. It gives me a lot to think about while I try to sleep in a bed that isn't mine because everything I own has been destroyed."

Wordlessly, he handed her the bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I really don't think-" she started.

"Stop. Stop _thinking_. Just drink the bloody alcohol and stop thinking for once in your life."

"You're a horrible influence," she said, actually accepting the offering. She took a tiny sip, cringing at the taste and the burn as it slid down her throat. It wasn't called _Fire_whiskey for nothing; if it had been meant to taste like something gentler, she supposed it would have had a different name. Still, she wasn't fond of that initial burning sensation.

When Malfoy scoffed and gave her a look that clearly said 'don't be a pussy', she took a larger gulp. What was the worst that could happen?

It was the sun that woke her up. Bright rays were shining right in her eyes and she couldn't seem to roll away from them – she couldn't seem to roll at all, it was as if...

"MALFOY!" she yelled, opening her eyes and yanking on the bindings holding her arms. The git had tied her to a bed! Further inspection of the room revealed that he had tied her to _his _bed. Was she wearing his shirt? The garment was certainly too large to be one of her own and she was positive it wasn't what she'd been wearing the night before when she left her room to follow him.

Merlin, what had _happened _the night before? Frantically, she ran over her clouded and blurred memories of the previous night, trying to figure out the events that had led to her current position.

"_Merlin Granger, I never thought I'd be saying this to you, but slow down a bit," Malfoy laughed as Hermione took yet another big gulp from the bottle. He tried to take the alcohol back from her, but she held on, managing to slosh Firewhiskey down her front in the process._

_She'd had enough to drink that the mess only made her giggle as the cold droplets slid down her body, towards the ground in freezing trails that raised goose bumps in their wake._

_She pulled off her robe, only to discover that it had soaked through to her nightgown. At least she knew that any germs that may have been on the nightwear were now disinfected. Or was that vodka? All alcohol? She couldn't see wine disinfecting much. Her mind was slightly fuzzy and was having difficulty coming up with the answer for her._

_Regardless of whether she was disinfected or not, Hermione was wet and it was too cold to be wet outside._

"_Give me your shirt," she ordered Malfoy._

_He looked at her questioningly, but when it became obvious that she was completely serious, he complied, undoing the buttons and handing over his shirt. It hadn't mattered when he was half clothed around her before, and it wasn't going to start mattering just because she was completely smashed and on his lawn in the middle of the night._

"_Turn around."_

_Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he obeyed her and turned his back on the woman._

_She watched to make sure he was looking the other way before sliding off her nightgown and replacing it with his shirt. Her coordination wasn't what it should be, so she struggled more than she normally would have in getting her head through the right hole. The bloody shirt was obviously as evil as its former wearer. The same wearer whose body heat had made it warm and whose cologne or aftershave still clung around the collar._

_She grunted in irritation and tried again to get the blasted garment over her head. Why would they make holes for her head that obviously didn't fit her head? Maybe they hadn't made allowances for her large hair. She obviously had to push harder. _

"_Granger, my shirt has buttons, you don't have to put your head through a hole, you just wrap it around your shoulders and do up the middle," Malfoy said. He pulled the shirt off of her head and helped her slip her arms through the proper holes. A gentleman would have averted his eyes and turned back around to allow her to do up the buttons herself, but Malfoy was no gentleman and didn't have the patience to wait with his back turned while she struggled to get the buttons in the right holes._

_He started at the collar of the shirt, slipping the button in its corresponding hole and moving on to the next one. His fingers trailed over her skin much more than necessary, leaving trails of warmth that contrasted with the coolness of the night air._

_When he came to the last button, Hermione's breathing had increased enough that every breath nearly made her chest brush against his. How had he done up the buttons while he'd been so close? She looked up into his eyes and was distracted by what she saw there._

_Buttons forgotten, she sidestepped him and grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey; she wasn't near drunk enough to deal with her attraction to the blond snake._

Malfoy came into his bedroom with a grin on his face. "Feeling a little hung-over, Princess?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just untie me, Malfoy!"

Something about her voice and body language tipped him off, making his grin widen as realization dawned. "You don't remember last night yet, do you?"

She did her very best not to blush. "I'm working on it. Now untie me!"

He looked her up and down, contemplating her request. "You know, I don't think I will. I'm hurt that you've forgotten our night of corruption and sin. Bye, Princess."

Hermione tried really hard to remember what _type_ of sins they'd committed the previous night. She knew he wasn't actually hurt that she'd forgotten; if he was actually hurt, he'd never come out and _tell_ her. Everything that had followed that first sip of Firewhiskey was his fault. He never should have given her alcohol!

Something else about what he'd said finally sunk past the jumble of confusion and distress that was currently occupying her poor brain. Why did he keep calling her Princess?

_She twirled in place, taking in the stars above her and watching them swirl. When she felt like she was going to throw up, she plopped back in the ground beside Malfoy, who was watching her with his lips quirked into a half smile._

"_You're a lightweight, Granger." _

"_I'd rather be a lightweight than an alcoholic."_

_The lightness in his expression disappeared as his jaw tightened. Hermione caught this change. _

"_What, I'm not allowed to mention how you spend all your spare time drinking and abusing numerous other substances?" she asked._

"_No," he said._

_Ignoring the rigidness of his posture, she flopped onto her back, resting her head in his lap. Upside down, she watched him give her a slightly bewildered look. "I think you do it because you hate yourself."_

_His jaw stayed clenched and he didn't comment. Seeing this, Hermione reached up and poked the tip of his nose. "You can't tell me nothing's wrong. No one slowly kills themselves because they're happy and shiny inside."_

"_And you're the expert on happy and shiny?" he asked, swatting her hand away as she tried to poke his nose again._

"_No, I haven't been properly happy since Ron left." She wasn't sure why she was telling him about Ron, since she hadn't even told Harry what had happened – he knew, but she hadn't spoken about it._

"_Okay, you tell me what it is that makes the Gryffindor Princess so unhappy and I'll tell you why I drink so much."_

"_Princess?" she asked, focusing on the wrong thing._

"_You didn't know? Everyone in Slytherin always called you the Gryffindor Princess. You were the swotty embodiment of pretty much everything Gryffindor."_

_Her bushy head tilted slightly to the side as she contemplated her new information. "I like it," she decided._

"_Princess is it then. Tell me Princess, what is it the Weasel did that ruined your happiness?"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: Hello readers! I need your help... I read a Dramione on this site not so long ago, but the nice people who fixed my computer deleted ALL my bookmarks and now I can't find it again! I meant to add it to my favourites but forgot *sigh*. Anyway, it's on ff . net... or possibly Hawthorn and Vine, complete, and Hermione's mum married Lucius. Draco and Hermione were stepsiblings, but they were all grown up and such. Ringing any bells for anyone? This is driving me insane... If someone knows what it is, I'll give them the next chapter (yes, it's bothering me **_**that **_**much. Bribery! I've resorted to bribery!)**

**Anyway! Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! 41 reviews in... 2(?) days! Whatever the exact time, it's a lot of reviews, so here's another chapter!**

**Only two chapters after this!**

**~Frosty**

Tugging on her bindings, Hermione growled in frustration. There were probably all kinds of girls that would be happy to be tied to Malfoy's bed, but she definitely wasn't one of them. She didn't see why the bleached ferret wanted her to remember the events of the previous night before he would untie her. Had something monumentally important happened, or was he just prolonging her humiliation for his own amusement?

She squinted her eyes at the ceiling and tried to remember what had happened after Malfoy had called her Princess. For one of the first times in her life, her brain was having difficulty giving her the information she was asking of it. She didn't know how Malfoy did this every morning, wake up and try to remember what happened the night before.

"_Tell me Princess, what is it the Weasel did that ruined your happiness?" he asked, looking down at her as her head rested in his lap._

_Unconsciously, Hermione put her hands down to her stomach, giving up her attempts to poke his nose again. The gesture made Malfoy raise his eyebrows in surprise. _

"_He got me pregnant and then ran to Romania," she whispered, reliving the feelings of abandonment and depression she'd experienced at that time. The letter Ron had left behind had shattered her heart at the time. She knew now he was useless and no good for her, but then it had been a devastating blow._

"_I'm sorry," Malfoy said, sounding like he meant it._

"_Don't be, it was a long time ago. It's the baby that really tore me up; I lost her only a few months into the pregnancy. She was so small and helpless and I felt like I did something wrong even though I did everything the Healers told me to." She fought back tears, hating that Malfoy would once again see her at a weak moment._

_Malfoy reached down to remove her hands from her stomach and hold them in his own. The gesture was warm and comforting; it made her feel a little better._

"_Your turn."_

_He dropped her hands, but didn't move away. His eyes took on a far-off look as he stared at the ground to her right. "I suppose it all started in sixth year. You know the whole thing with letting Voldmort into Hogwarts. I just wanted to forget, so I started drinking. There was always money for more alcohol and there were always willing women."_

_Hermione climbed to her knees so that her face was level with his. She leant forward so they were nose-to-nose. "You have horrible ways of dealing with stress."_

_That said, she wrapped her arms around his neck and crawled into his lap._

Hermione groaned; had she really crawled into the git's lap? She distinctly recalled snuggling against him as well. The strangest part of the whole thing was that Malfoy had allowed the contact, going as far as to shift his body so she was more comfortable.

"Malfoy!" she yelled again.

His head poked around the door. "Do you remember yet?"

"I remember everything between sitting down beside you and climbing into your lap."

He smirked. "There's still more to remember, like how you came to be tied to my bed."

Coming into the room, Malfoy sat on the bed beside her and leant back against the headboard.

"I can't wait. I want to see your face when you finally remember anyway. I have a feeling your expression is going to be memorable."

That didn't bode well, Malfoy was entirely too excited and smug for it to have been anything harmless that could have led her to her current position. Starting to dread the horrific secrets her fuzzy brain was insistent on keeping from her, Hermione reluctantly closed her eyes to try and remember more.

"_Granger, what do you think you're doing?" he asked._

"_You're all warm and it's kind of chilly out here, don't you think?" Hermione was starting to get tired and the shirtless Malfoy was the perfect place to have a nap – at least, that's what her addled mind told her. She rested her head on his bare shoulder and nuzzled against his neck._

_He tensed when her cold nose hit him, but it only took a moment for him to relax and chuckle._

"_Come on Princess, I think it's time for bed," the blond said as he hefted her into his arms and started walking towards the house. Hermione didn't object; she was already lightly dozing against him._

_When she woke, she found that she was alone in a cold bed. That just wouldn't do; she'd been so warm sleeping against Malfoy, and he was surprisingly comfortable. Unsteadily, she got up from her own bed, padded down the hall and climbed into Malfoy's bed with him._

"_Granger," he said- a warning in his tone. Hermione ignored him and snuggled close, going right back to sleep._

_Once again, she woke up alone in a guest bed and once again she crawled in with Malfoy and fell asleep._

_The third time she pulled back his blankets to join him; he sat up and glared at her. "I swear to Merlin, Granger, if you get into this bed with me one more time, I'm going to tie you to it."_

_Ignoring his warning, Hermione rested her head on the pillow beside him and closed her eyes._

If the heat from her cheeks was anything to go by, her face was a bright red.

"Ah, I see you remember," he said with a grin. Reaching out to the silk tie holding her left arm, Malfoy untied it with a few practiced twists. He had to lean over her to get the right one, bringing their faces dangerously close.

Something about the position brought back one more memory, it seemed to be the one thing Malfoy was hoping she'd forgotten.

"You kissed me," she said with surprise and none of the revulsion she would have expected.

He finished her right hand and stood, trying to put distance between them. If he wasn't Malfoy, she would have sworn he was embarrassed. It was understandable, considering what he'd done.

_Hermione didn't fight while he tied her hands somewhere above her head. She didn't really care at the moment; she was warm and comfy against Malfoy's impossibly soft sheets and he wasn't trying to kick her out of his bed anymore. What was there to worry about?_

_He was gentle as he tied her up, and she just couldn't bring herself to mind his touch. _

_Her hair fell over her face, ticking her nose. She tried to blow it away, but only managed to make it wiggle, tickling her even more. Well _that_ was going to be a downside of not being able to use her hands._

_Malfoy noticed her struggle and pushed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He watched, as if fascinated by his movements as his fingers trailed along her skin. _

_Hermione closed her eyes at the touch, so she didn't have any warning when he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see his back disappear out of the door._

"I was drunk," he defended.

She brought her arms down slowly, wincing at their stiffness. "Barely."

"I'll forget you crawled into my lap and then my bed, you forget I kissed you, and we'll go back to normal."

"I thought the whole drinking thing was supposed to make me forget what was bothering me, not give me more things I don't want to remember."

He shrugged. "Beggars can't be choosers. You felt better for one night."

Hermione tried to sit up, but the pounding in her head stopped her. She pressed a hand to her forehead and glared at him. "And now I feel ten times worse."

"Figured you might," he gave her a Pepper Up potion. "How does it feel when the situation's reversed?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes in a fierce scowl. "You're a foul person."

He just chuckled.

* * *

><p>She was showering when a large silver monster burst through the curtain and joined her under the spray. Surprised, Hermione screamed and jumped away from the creature, slipping on the soapy tiles and falling to the floor.<p>

"Hermione, where in Merlin's name are you _now_? Someone's out to get you and you just keep disappearing on us! When you get this, come see me, I have information for you," Harry's voice said from the glowing stag right before it dispersed into a puff of silver mist.

"What the hell's going on in here?" Malfoy demanded, bursting through the door. He stopped when he ripped the shower curtain aside and noticed her on the ground. "You're naked."

"I'm in the _shower_ you idiot!" she yelled. He stared in confusion as she tried to cover herself with the curtain.

"Get OUT!"

The promise of death in her eyes helped urge him to quickly exit the room.

He was leaning against the wall opposite the washroom door when she exited, fully dressed. Her wet hair was soaking into the shoulders of her shirt. In an attempt to hide her embarrassment with haughty anger, her nose was in the air. It wasn't working very well; there was an obvious red stain across her cheeks that couldn't be attributed to her anger.

"Care to tell me what that was about?" he asked.

"Harry sent me a Patronus, it scared me and I screamed. Then I screamed some more because you came bursting into the room."

"I'm surprised at you Princess; I would never have guessed you were hiding _that _under your boring, practical clothing."

Hermione threaded her fingers through her wet hair and made a noise of irritation. "You are never to bring up what I'm 'hiding' under my clothes again."

He shrugged. "Just another thing to add to the lengthening list of things that 'never happened'."

"Exactly," she patted his cheek condescendingly. The action was meant to hide her discomfort, but only seemed to increase it. Hastily, she pulled her hand back. "I'm going to meet Harry."

She was almost out the door when his voice stopped her. "You have an hour until you're supposed to be at work, Princess."

"Is that your way of telling me I have an hour before you come looking for me?"

"Take it however you want," he answered noncommittally.

She took that as a yes.

* * *

><p>Hermione wasn't worried about Malfoy coming to find her, but she checked her watch as she stepped out of Harry's fireplace, just to know how much time she had. If all hell was going to break loose – and it would if Malfoy came to Harry's house to retrieve her – then she wanted warning.<p>

"Where have you _been_?" Ginny demanded the moment her friend was in sight. "Why's your hair all wet?"

The brunette darted her eyes over to Harry, who was standing behind Ginny. "_Someone_ sent me a Patronus while I was in the shower, I didn't dry my hair before I came to see you because I assumed you didn't want to wait any longer."

"That doesn't answer where you've been!" Ginny piped up, irritated that only one of her questions had been answered – the less important one.

"Malfoy said I couldn't go home, he essentially kidnapped-"

She realised 'kidnapped' may not have been the best word to use when Harry immediately popped out of existence.

Hermione glanced at Ginny. "I could have phrased that better."

"You think?" the redhead asked sarcastically. "If Malfoy didn't do anything wrong, you should probably go stop Harry from arresting him."

As far as Hermione knew, Harry didn't know where Malfoy lived, so he would check the office first. This would have been a good thing, except that she suspected Malfoy had left for the office early for once in his life.

She Apparated to Malfoy Industries, knowing immediately she was in the right place because of the scorch marks on the walls and the loud clamour coming from Malfoy's office. How had they managed to have a duel and do so much damage in so little time?

"Potter, I'm telling you that you've got it wrong!"

Hermione cringed a little; Malfoy sounded angrier than she'd heard him since they'd been in school - and it was mostly her fault.

"Stop!" she yelled, bursting into his office just in time to nearly lose her head to a blast of orange. Her knees hit the floor just as the wall above her exploded into a puff of drywall dust and plaster chunks.

"Now you've nearly _killed_ Granger," Malfoy said, glaring at Harry.

"I'm fine. Now both of you lower your wands before someone actually gets hurt," Hermione ordered.

"He kidnapped you!"

Hermione was getting tired of the men in her life just jumping into action whenever they wanted without bothering to consult her. "If you had stayed long enough for me to finish, you would have heard me say that once I was there he gave me a guestroom and I stayed the night – _willingly_."

Harry's wand stayed levelled at Malfoy's chest. "I don't trust him."

She stepped in front of Malfoy, knowing Harry wasn't going to hurt her. Just like the time he helped her back into the window on the fire escape, Hermione was intensely ware of Malfoy's proximity as she stood by him.

She shook off her distraction and addressed her friend. "Harry, Malfoy hasn't done anything bad, I'm fine."

"Except tie you to the bed, Princess," the git of a blond whispered in her ear, sending shivers up her spine.

Hermione swatted at him over her shoulder. "You're welcome to say that, but I don't think it's going to help the situation," she hissed. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut.

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Harry demanded with a suspicious look.

"We're discussing whether or not it would be a good idea to tell you that I tied her to my bed," Malfoy said with a hint of a smirk in his voice.

She put a hand over her eyes; it seemed her thankfulness had come too soon.

"_What_?" Harry demanded.

Hermione smiled a placating smile. "Let's just leave Malfoy here and go back to your house to discuss this," she said to Harry. The poor man was standing there opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

"You broke Harry," she hissed at Malfoy as she passed him.

"Had I known tying you up was all it would take, I would have done it years ago," he answered quietly.

She sent him one last fierce glare before gently talking Harry's elbow and steering him from the room.

Ginny was pacing the room when they Apparated back to Harry's house. Hermione had been forced to bring him side-along because he didn't seem capable of getting himself home.

"What happened?" the redhead demanded.

"Malfoy... bed. _Tied_."

Hermione blushed while Ginny looked at Harry like he was insane. "Malfoy cursed you with some kind of Confundus charm?"

Harry managed to gather his wits enough to finally form a coherent sentence. "Malfoy said he tied Hermione to his bed."

Ginny looked like Christmas had come early. She immediately turned her back on Harry and devoted all of her attention to the embarrassed brunette. "You're _shagging your boss_? This is the stuff of those Muggle romances I've been reading. Did he slowly help you broaden your sexual horizons with his wild ways?"

Hermione just blinked at her friends. "What have you been letting her read?" she asked Harry.

"It doesn't matter what I've been reading because apparently Hermione's been _living _it."

"Don't ask her about her sex life, I don't want to know!" Harry snapped.

"There was no sex!" Hermione yelled. The entire situation was getting out of hand, particularly Ginny's imagination.

"Then why were you tied to his bed?"

"That's a long, embarrassing story I'd rather not get into if you don't mind," Hermione said, glancing at her watch. She had a few minutes before an hour had passed, and she had a feeling that even though she'd technically been to the office before her hour was up, Malfoy would still come after her. "I have to get to work; can we forget this conversation ever started and get to the point of my visit?"

"There you go trying to add more things to that list of yours," Malfoy's voice said. Hermione looked around the room frantically to find where he was hiding before he caused more trouble. "Down here, Granger."

Her eyes darted to the fireplace where his head was floating. He smirked at her when he saw that she'd noticed him.

"You're late for work," the infuriating blond said.

"One minute, Harry has something important to tell me."

Everyone turned to the green-eyed man expectantly. Harry looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on him.

"I asked around and checked the records, then I double checked what I found; you were never fired, Hermione."

The only thing she could do was stand there in complete shock. It was the kind of shock that makes all sound fade to background noise to allow the brain time to process the new information.

"But... Percy came to tell me himself that I was fired. Someone sent out a missive that I wasn't to be hired by anyone else."

Malfoy was tapping his foot impatiently. "Granger, I'm a Malfoy, we don't wait for people."

He reached out a hand from the flames and flicked his eyes to the extended limb, wordlessly telling her to take it.

Hermione only hesitated a moment before shooting an apologetic look to her friends. She grabbed the offered hand, letting him pull her though the fire and into his office. Their momentum made it impossible for Malfoy to keep his footing. He toppled over, Hermione landing on top of him.

"I know you want me, but this isn't the place," Malfoy said, sounding a little winded from her weight colliding with him.

"Give it up, Malfoy. I'm not one of your conquests."

He frowned, suddenly serious. "You could never be one of them."

"You've said that before."

"And I'm repeating it because it continues to be true, although the word 'never' should have tipped you off to that fact."

"Why couldn't I?" she asked. "Just out of curiosity, of course."

"Because when you walk out that door, it matters to me if the psychopath who's after you catches you, but all those girls I shag... I could care less."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. "That is both sweet and completely heartless at the same time."

He waved a pale hand dismissively. "Not important. We need to go find the prissy Weasel before Potter does."

"I thought I had to work?"

"Don't be ridiculous Princess, it seems you already have a job, I just didn't want Potter to get to have all the fun this time."

He was half-way out the door before he noticed she wasn't following. "What're you waiting for?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A/N: Thanks to everyone who tried to help me find that story! I ended up finding it myself (after over an hour of searching), it's Snow in June by Dayang Lucilla on Hawthorn and Vine... Also to all the wonderful people who reviewed and for DramioneLover123 for betaing!

**One little piece of this is adapted from something I saw in Doctor Who. Can you spot it?**

***tear* Only one more chapter left. It's kind of sad...**

**~Frosty**

Hermione rushed to catch him. "Where are you going to look for Percy?"

"It's during office hours; even _I _know he's either working or lying dead somewhere. The bloke really needs a life."

She may have agreed with this assessment, but she was too polite to speak against one of the Weasley family without good reason. Despite what Ron had done to her, the rest of them had been nothing but kind and sort of like an adoptive family within the Wizarding world.

Molly had been almost as devastated as she had when she'd shared the news that she'd lost the baby. Hermione had long suspected it was the Weasley matriarch that had been behind the long apology letter she'd received from Ron a year after their breakup.

When Hermione caught up with him, Malfoy grabbed her arm and Apparated the both of them to the designated spot in the Ministry.

He didn't even pause to check the helpful signs for visitors as he strode purposefully to a lift and hit the button for the highest floor.

"Malfoy how is it you know where Percy works?"

Dismissively, the blond waved a hand in the air. "I make it my business to know."

It seemed that was all the answer she was going to get. The two in the elevator fell into silence only broken by the canned music even the Magical world didn't seem able to escape and the happy voice announcing the floors they were passing.

"We're just going to talk to him, not curse him," she reminded the blond. With Malfoy's volatility, Percy would only need to say one wrong thing before he hexed him and then Malfoy would be carted off to Azkaban for using magic against a Ministry official. She would probably end up imprisoned as an accomplice.

"I make no promises."

The bell rang as the doors of the lift opened, announcing their arrival on the correct floor.

She had a bad feeling about what they were about to do, but followed behind Malfoy anyway. They were stopped by a very large man behind a desk just outside of Percy's office. He looked more like a bodyguard than an assistant, only intensifying any suspicions Hermione may have had about Percy. What innocent man would have a huge bodyguard outside his office?

"Do you have an appointment?" the man asked in a disturbingly deep voice.

Malfoy was completely un-phased by the intimidating man. "No, but by the way you're guarding that door, I know he's in there."

"Go in there and tell him Hermione Granger's here and has a few questions for him," she said in a voice that brooked no arguments. Not once had she _wanted _to believe that Percy was guilty, but the evidence against him was starting to pile up, and she was starting to see that his guilt seemed more and more likely.

As soon as she saw the light of recognition in the bodyguard's eyes, she knew he was going to do as she'd asked. It was annoying most of the time, but occasionally, being a war hero came in handy. She watched with satisfaction as the man quietly slipped behind the door he had been guarding like a lion crouched in front of his den.

He was only in there a moment before he came back out with a contrived look of apology on his face. "I'm afraid Mr. Weasley isn't available at the moment. Can I make you an appointment?"

Hermione didn't know what game Percy thought he was playing at; she'd heard the murmur of voices as his assistant had spoken to him, so she knew he was in there. She also knew that Percy wouldn't be able to escape through the fireplace in his office without them hearing and there was no Apparation except at the designated spots on every floor or on the ground outside the protections on the building. How in the world did he expect to escape them?

"He's climbing out the window, isn't he?" Malfoy asked with resignation.

She darted him a surprised look, but the other man was already nodding. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy had been so sure of the escape route because he had tried it before. Maybe knowing every way out of the Ministry building was a Slytherin thing as well. She could picture the older Slytherins gathering the first years around blueprints of important buildings and going over ways to escape should the need ever arise.

Malfoy sighed, muttered something about cowards and stunned the guard. "All that bulk isn't much use if you're shit at casting spells."

He rushed into Percy's office.

"Malfoy, I thought this was _my_ trip to find answers," she said, hurrying after him as he charged off on his own – again. It was beginning to feel like he just wanted to hex Percy and was using her as an excuse. She wasn't entirely opposed to the idea; Percy would still get hexed and she was sure Malfoy knew some truly horrifying hexes.

The fireplace in the corner of the room was soot-free, confirming Hermione's assumption that he hadn't used it to escape. They would have heard him call out his destination and could have followed him.

She froze just as the blond vaulted over the windowsill into seemingly empty space. The thud as he hit the metal grating outside was the only reassurance she got that he hadn't plunged to his death.

At a more sedate pace, Hermione crossed the room and placed her hands on the sill to lever herself out onto the fire escape. She had to distract herself with the chase a few floors below in order to get her stubborn legs out the window, but she was successful.

Her exit of the window coincided with Percy's arrival at the ground. She watched Malfoy leap over the railing and land right beside the redhead just in time to watch him take a few steps away from the building and outside the anti-Apparation wards. He disappeared with a pop just short of Malfoy's grasping hands.

She slumped against the metal railing in defeat; Percy could be absolutely anywhere, the chances of finding him were incredibly slim. So great was her disappointment that she didn't even notice the height at which she was standing. Apparently crushing disappointment mixed with some anger was all it took for her to get over her fear of heights – for a short time, of course. As soon as her mind was once again unoccupied, she'd be back to terror. Humans – magical or otherwise - just weren't meant to be so far from the ground.

The fire escape creaked as Malfoy stepped onto it floors below to begin climbing back up to Hermione. He had probably figured out that she wasn't going to be able to climb down there to meet him.

With a dizzying sway, she noticed once again where she was and started to panic. She tried to focus on Malfoy's footsteps as he ascended the stairs, using the sound as a distraction from the height. Going through the window to wait for him was an option, but she had a feeling that her grip on the railing was the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, and that if she released it to go through the window, Malfoy would find her in an embarrassing heap when he arrived at the right floor.

The fire escape groaned and creaked again louder, wobbling under his weight. Hermione started to get a little nervous and was just contemplating making a rush for the window, when the railing that had been supporting her broke with a horrible screech of metal.

The wind whooshed by her as she tumbled over the edge after the broken chunk of railing. At the last moment, her arm whipped out and caught the sharp edge of the platform, slicing her palm deeply and yanking her arm viciously as it abruptly stopped her momentum.

"Malfoy!" she screeched, "Help!"

She hadn't been paying much attention to where the blond was, what with the falling to her death and everything, but he had been paying attention to her and immediately noticed when the railing broke. By the time she screamed for him, he had already sped up his ascent.

With the blood making her hand slippery, Hermione knew she wasn't going to be able to hold on for very long. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the fall, but it never came.

Just as her fingers were slipping, a strong hand grabbed her wrist, jerking her poor shoulder once again. She didn't care about a little pain if it meant she wasn't going to fall to her death.

Malfoy grunted with the effort of pulling her up and back to the questionable safety of the fire escape. They fell to a heap on the metal grate and before Hermione could regain her bearings, Malfoy was holding her tightly against himself.

He pulled back far enough to stare into her eyes, more serious than she'd ever seen him. "Never do that again."

"It's not like I _intentionally_-" he cut off her objection by pressing his lips against hers. Gradually, Hermione stopped her terrified shaking and let herself relax against him. Merlin, he was good with his mouth. He certainly had enough practice - or maybe it was just talent.

When he pulled away a second time, they both sat there for a moment, leaning against each other and just breathing.

"Can't imagine this will help with your fear of heights," Malfoy said when he'd caught his breath.

"If anything, it's reinforced them," Hermione muttered. She moved to stand up, but he stopped her with a hand around her wrist.

"You're bleeding."

Hermione glanced down at her palm. Oh, that was a lot of blood. She pulled out her wand and healed the slash, watching as the skin wove itself into a pink line across her otherwise unmarked hand. There would probably always be a faint scar on her palm, but she wasn't vain enough to let it bother her, particularly when she hadn't known if she was going to survive just moments ago.

Once again, she tried to leave the fire escape, and once again he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Malfoy, if you make me stay on this fire escape for one more second, then I'm going to hex you." Her voice was shaky and shrill, letting him know she was only moments from breaking down completely.

With his silver eyes downcast, he released the hold he had on her wrist. "Never mind," he said, helping her back through the window and into the relative safety of Percy's office.

Feet firmly on solid ground, Hermione took a shaky breath and tried to get her thoughts in order. "As far as security knows, we've just made a Ministry official disappear." She glanced at the fireplace sitting in the corner of the room and nodded her head towards it. "You should leave. I'll explain what happened to Minister Kingsley, and I'll sort this mess out."

Shouting in the corridor directed her attention away from the blond. When her gaze landed back on Malfoy, he was tense with anger and his eyes were storm clouds. What was he so riled up about?

"I've outlived my usefulness and you're just going to throw me away now?" he growled. "Well, congratulations, you're going to get your old job back and can forget all about me."

Hermione was completely lost. "In case you haven't noticed, it's _still _my job to keep you away from bad press and unless you're going to fire me, I'm telling you to get the hell out of here or tomorrow all the headlines will claim you've broken into the Ministry and made the Minister's assistant disappear. Now Floo away from here before security comes in."

Never one to actually listen to her, even in an emergency, Malfoy stood there and smirked. "In that case, I'm still your employer and I order you to report to me once you're done with this Ministry nonsense."

Heavy footsteps were approaching; signifying security was almost upon them. "_Fine_, just get out of here," she hissed, crossing the distance between them and trying to shove him towards the fireplace. He didn't budge a centimetre.

Instead, he wrapped his long fingers around her wrists and pulled her arms up and forward, tugging her against him as he placed her hands behind his neck.

Hermione's eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was open to object, which he took advantage of, kissing her for the second time that day. The big brain she was so famous for was completely confused and frazzled, but she responded instinctually and leaned closer to him, tightening her hold and pressing herself against the hard plains of his torso. It was over as suddenly as it had started; not giving her time to fully register what it was that was happening.

He was calling out his destination in the green flames before she even had time to say 'sexual harassment'. Just as the roaring of the fire settled once again into a normal fire, the door burst open and security flooded into the room, followed by Aurous with their wands drawn.

Meekly, Hermione raised her hands to show that they were empty. "It's not what it looks like," she said.

* * *

><p>It was almost midnight before everything had been sorted out with the Ministry. Kingsley had always been a reasonable person, and he wasn't willing to believe that Hermione would barge into a Ministry employee's office without good reason. After much talking and a small dose of Veritaserum, the whole debacle had been sorted out and Hermione was to take a few days off before reporting back to her old job – the one she never really lost.<p>

Briefly, she thought about just going back to her flat and calling it a day, but she had a feeling that she'd wake up to an irate Malfoy if she attempted that. It was unlikely that he was still working at such a late hour, but that was where he'd told her to go and it wouldn't be the first time he'd stayed late. She just hoped he was sober.

With a weary sigh, she Floo'd to Malfoy Industries. All the lights were off, but that didn't mean that no one was there. She made her way to Malfoy's office and listened outside the door. There was no sound coming from inside.

Without knocking, she entered the room, finding it dark. She could just make out a head of silver-blond hair against the dark material of the sofa in the faint moonlight coming in through the window. A quick flick of her wand turned the lights on, making Malfoy hiss and put a hand over his eyes.

"You haven't been drinking again, have you?" she asked, irritated that she couldn't leave for five minutes without him hitting a flask.

"Any normal person would have the same reaction when some silly bint suddenly _blinds _them with bright light, it doesn't mean I've been drinking just because my eyes are _sensitive_."

It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't actually answered her question, but something had distracted her from questioning him further. Her eyes grew almost comically wide and her eyebrows drew together.

"Malfoy," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady over the rage she was feeling. "Why is Percy standing on the ledge outside your window?"

Casually, the blond glanced in the direction Hermione was staring.

"You're right; he does ruin the lovely view. Would you mind opening the window and giving him a shove, Princess?"

"Tell me why he's out there!" she yelled, losing the battle against her temper.

Still entirely too relaxed for the circumstances, Malfoy yawned as if she'd interrupted his sleep. Knowing him, he probably _had _been napping while Percy was in danger of falling to his death just outside the window. "Well, Granger, I'm glad you asked. I just happened to be out for a stroll when I came across this pest. I thought it would be best to take him back here and ask him some questions."

Hermione knew for a fact that Malfoy _never_ just strolled, he thought it below him. That meant he had actively sought out Percy. She could only imagine what he did to the redhead to get the answers to those questions he'd had.

With a venomous glare at Malfoy, she rushed over to the window and opened it. She grabbed Percy around the shoulders and assisted him inside, all the while cursing Malfoy and his evil Slytherin ways. If someone had put her out there, she would have been traumatised for life – though, now that she thought of it, working with Malfoy had probably traumatised her for life anyway, and that was Percy's fault. So, really, they were even.

Her breath caught in her throat as Percy stumbled a little when she pulled him over the sill; it would only take one little slip on his part for him to fall to his death, pulling her with him. That same little stumble could make her look like a murderer in the eyes of the law should she _not_ fall with him to the unforgiving ground below.

Neither of those unfortunate circumstances came to pass, and she somehow managed to pull him inside without incident. Percy crumpled in a heap as Hermione stepped away from him, wanting to put distance between them.

Languidly, Malfoy stood from the sofa and paced across the room. "Spoilsport," he grumbled; close to Hermione's ear as he stopped beside her. Louder, he continued. "It seems that the Minister was interested in offering you a position that would ultimately make the Weasel here redundant. The worthless blighter thought trashing your flat would scare you out of town and stop you from working. He obviously didn't remember who you are. Apparently, the sod felt threatened and decided to get rid of you before the Minister saw how much better you was at the job and fired Weasley."

Percy had been sitting on the floor, clutching his knees. At Malfoy's words, he looked up, "_No one's_ better at my job than me; I just didn't want someone else working closely with the Minister like I do," he snapped indignantly.

That was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard, Hermione was going to tell him so when Malfoy stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Don't waste your breath on him, Princess." He pulled out his wand and conjured ropes to bind the Weasley. "I thought it would be fun to tie him up and see if he could swim," he held up a hand to stop her protests before they could leave her mouth. "Then I thought you'd probably object to that even if you secretly thought it was a brilliant idea, so I've settled on calling the Aurors to come here and get him. And you owe me, because you know how much I hate the Aurors."

Hermione sighed. "What do you think the Aurors are going to think of you putting him outside the window to wait for his death?"

He turned his head to glare at the still prone form of Percy. "He's not going to say anything to anyone or I'll come find him." All the warmth that had been in his voice while he'd been addressing her disappeared with his threat. Hermione hadn't noticed how his voice changed when he spoke to her until she had the glaring contrast for comparison; he was downright _affectionate_ while he was addressing her.

When the Aurors showed up –thankfully, no one Hermione knew- Percy was more than willing to go with them. He was terrified that Malfoy would stick him outside the window again – not that he mentioned that, but Hermione knew that's what he was thinking from the terrified looks he kept darting towards the still-open window. She had a feeling he now shared her fear of heights.

The moment they were out of sight, Malfoy turned to Hermione with a smirk, "Alone at last."

That was a foreboding statement. She took a step back, unsure where he was going with that line of thinking.

**A/N: Yes, I know. Frosty is an evil person, etc, etc... *grins***


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: Hello readers! This is the very last chapter, which is depressing. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this story so far, and thanks to Dramionelover123 for betaing! I've been having a bit of a bad week, and reviews would cheer me up immensely. So, review? *sadeyes***

**Everything after the divider is an indeterminate time later (just in case anyone gets confused). It's really more of an epilogue.**

**~Frosty**

"Well... I'd better be going," Hermione tried. She didn't think the evil blond was going to let her escape so easily, but it was worth a try. He obviously had something planned and she wanted no part in it. Things he planned tended to get out of hand quickly and her day had been packed full of enough excitement to get her through the rest of the year already.

"Stop right there, Princess. You're not going anywhere."

She cringed; nope, he wasn't going to just let her escape. "What is it you wanted?" she sighed.

He stared at her hard for a moment. "You're really going to make me say it?"

Completely lost, Hermione raised her eyebrows in invitation. She wasn't sure what the 'it' was, so yes, she was going to make him say it. Malfoy was either imagining things or she'd missed something over the course of the day.

"We need to talk about... us," he said, looking like he'd swallowed something unpleasant.

Hermione was so shocked she wasn't able to answer him immediately. She didn't think those were words he said very frequently. Judging from his obvious distaste for them, those words had probably been said to him on a few occasions, and, knowing his lifestyle, the conversation hadn't gone well.

When she managed to regain her voice, it was a little squeakier than normal. "I wasn't aware there _was _an 'us'."

His face closed off and his eyes flashed a hurt look that he quickly smothered. "Why would you think that?"

"What do you mean 'why would I think that'? Not so long ago you asked me to make sure that the gaggle of strippers locked in your house got food! You're not exactly _sparing _with your... affections."

There, that was relatively diplomatic. She briefly wondered if strippers travelled in a gaggle or a herd... possibly a flock. Hermione shook her head to dismiss the thought; she had more important things to attend to at the moment.

"Oh, _that_," he waved a dismissive hand. "That's when I'm drunk. I'll attach my lips to anything that moves when I'm drunk. Hell, I kissed Snape once when he found me drinking in the common room." As if realizing what he'd just admitted, his face darkened. "That information doesn't leave this room." He shook his head sharply, whether in horror or in an attempt to jostle himself back on track, Hermione didn't know. "What I'm trying to say is that no one's had any expectations of me besides failure since sixth year and then you come along all swotty and bossy as all get out, but you expected me to get my act together. And then, when you needed help, you _depended_ on me."

When she'd been suspended high above the ground and slipping, _his _name had been the one she'd called for help. She supposed she _had_ depended on him to save her life.

"I'm someone you have to watch out for, not someone you go to for support, and yet you did," he finished.

Well wasn't that something? All it took to warm the cockles of his blackened heart was to give him a chance to redeem himself.

"Well apparently, that's all you needed to _become_ someone dependable." Her not splattered state attested to that. He had grabbed her and brought her back inside to safety, not to mention jumped out the window to chase Percy when he knew she couldn't.

"Does that mean you're willing to give me a chance?" Malfoy asked. It was amazing how someone so seemingly arrogant could sound so vulnerable. Where was all that infamous Malfoy pride?

"I thought I'd never be one of you conquests?" When he had told her she'd never be a conquest, Hermione had assumed it meant she wasn't pretty enough for him. She was almost short compared to those other girls, her breasts weren't near as large and her hair was a disaster. How was she supposed to compete with beauty queens and glamorous strippers?

Malfoy looked confused. "You won't. I don't want you for a one night stand; I want you around for a while."

Oh, that changed things then. She smiled at him, choosing to answer him with actions instead of words. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. This time, the both of them were sober and neither had just experienced a near-death experience, so there was less distracting from the sensation. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in the feel of him.

He suddenly pulled away from her stared down into her eyes almost lovingly. Hermione waited, horrified he was going to say something he hadn't known her long enough to mean and then expect an answer.

"Strippers travel in droves, not gaggles," he said. His mouth was once again on hers, not allowing her time to dispute him.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in the front row, watching her replacement as Malfoy's assistant got more and more frazzled while the blond muttered angrily. Draco didn't like speeches, but he was required to make one since the party they were attending was in celebration of his company's merger with another big company.<p>

She was glad it was someone else's job to keep him in line during work hours, the stress from continuing her job with him would have given her an ulcer in no time. Sadly, the job seemed to give a number of people ulcers as well. In fact, five of the thirteen assistants he'd had since she'd left Malfoy Industries had left due to 'health reasons' that later turned out to be ulcers. Two of those who left had claimed sexual harassment and four had experienced tearful breakdowns, while the rest had just told him to go to hell and stormed out of the office.

Her job at the Ministry, on the other hand, was wonderful. She'd been promoted to Percy's old job but with a few changes to the position. Instead of an assistant, she'd taken on the role as something of an advisor to the Minister. It seemed that Kingsley had tried to ask Percy's thoughts on things and allowed him chances to give input, but he had quickly come to realize that asking Percy's opinion made his big head even bigger until it was unbearable to be around the man.

Percy worked best as an assistant. Too bad he'd been fired from the Ministry and currently worked for Fred and George at their joke shop. Hermione knew he only had the job because Molly had insisted. She also knew that the twins were on the verge of firing their brother, no matter what their mum said to threaten them. It was nearly impossible to sell Dung bombs while Percy was standing there with a disapproving stare and a scathing voice saying, "I hope you don't plan on _using _those." One poor child had left the store in tears after he had attempted to purchase a fake wand and Percy had told him the dangers of whipping out the wrong wand should he ever need to defend himself. The boy had been eleven; he had only _owned_ his real wand for a few hours, never mind known how to use the thing to protect himself.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Malfoy said to get their attention. He was standing behind the podium up on the stage looking stunning in his dark business suit. His silver eyes glanced down at the notes he'd been holding in his hands.

Hermione was impressed that his new assistant had actually talked him into preparing in advance for a public appearance. Usually, Malfoy depended on his charisma alone to get him through anything involving public speaking. Well, charisma and alcohol. He was getting much better with his drinking, it helped that Hermione refused to be near him when he was under the influence.

"I'd like to extend my thanks to every who took time out of their busy schedules to come here and show their support for Malfoy Industries," his attitude made it apparent that he was reading word for word what the cards were saying. Hermione knew that he hadn't written the speech; Malfoy would never think to thank people for coming, he believed _they _should be thinking _him _for the privilege of attending.

His polite smile faded as his eyes ran over the next line. He glanced up at the audience and still with that bland smile on his face said: "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He grabbed the anxious-looking assistant by her elbow and towed her off the stage and out a door off to the side.

Worried about the poor girl, Hermione slipped from her chair and followed them through the door. She knew how Draco could get when he was tense, and nothing made him quite as tense as speaking in front of so many people he disliked.

Out of the public eye, Malfoy was free to let his displeasure show. He had a thunderous scowl on his face and the poor assistant he was looming over looked like she was about to cry.

"Malfoy's are not _humble_. What in Merlin's name made you think it would be acceptable to put that foul word in my speech?" He stopped snarling when he saw that the tears had overflowed from her eyes and were streaming down her cheeks as the girl sniffled quietly. "I have no idea how they thought _you'_d be able to keep me in line, you just _cry _whenever I put my foot down and yell." His voice was disgusted.

Hermione was about to interrupt, but he spoke instead. "And don't you start yelling at me about mistreating her, Granger. I can _feel_ your disapproval from here."

She hadn't thought he'd noted her entrance, but that was a silly assumption of her. He just hadn't wanted to interrupt his little fit to greet her.

"I wouldn't disapprove if you treated your employees better," Hermione said, coming up beside him and taking the cue card from his hands. He didn't resist, merely crossed his arms and waited for her to read it, seeming to think she was going to agree with him.

The line he seemed so offended by said: I'm humbled by this overwhelming show of support. Her eyes went to his. "Is this really so bad?"

"YES it's 'really so bad'! First you make me attend this thing sober, now you're trying to make me _humble_? I'll only be one at a time and we've already agreed on sober for this blasted event." He ripped the cards in half, threw them to the floor and stormed out of the room, presumably to resume his speech.

"He's not like this all the time, you know," Hermione said to the crying girl. "He has a kind side, it's just... buried a little deeper in him than in most."

"That's easy for you to say; he _likes_ you." She sniffled some more and knelt on the ground to collect the pieces of card scattered across the floor. "If I wore tight skirts like you did, I'm sure he'd soften right up," the girl muttered under her breath, not intending Hermione to hear.

The brunette turned and headed towards the door. She wasn't going to help the ungrateful girl if she was only going to be criticised for her effort. Sometimes she completely understood why Malfoy was so horrible to people.

Her hands smoothed over the skirt she was wearing. It had been a gift from Malfoy and it wasn't actually very tight, it _was _however, very flattering. She wouldn't wear the thing to church should her grandmother ever make her attend again, but it was one of the more conservative outfits in the audience.

The assistant got up to follow, but Hermione stopped her by throwing an arm out. "Wipe the tears off your face, your job is to maintain his reputation and going out there looking like he made you cry isn't going to make him look very good," she snapped, all patience or pity for the girl gone.

Just as the door was about to close behind her, she heard the assistant mutter, "She's just as bad as he is, no wonder she's the only one who can stand him."

Hermione chose to be the bigger person and ignore the comment. It helped that she was distracted by what Malfoy was saying on the stage.

"I see many faces I've come to know well – half of you I'd rather not see again. Hell, a third of you are only here because I felt obligated to invite you since I've seen your wives naked at some point in the last few years."

She quickly cast a stinging hex at him, making him jump and immediately glance over towards her, knowing she was the only one who would have done something like that. He flashed a smile that said 'trust me; I know what I'm doing'. Hermione was doubtful, but she didn't storm up there and pull him from the stage. She'd give him a chance, _and then _she would remove him from the stage and start the damage control.

"What I mean to say is thanks for coming and enjoy your evening," he said with a dazzling smile. When Malfoy really decided to be charming, there was just no staying mad at him. She didn't know how he managed it, but he'd just told a room of men that he'd seen their wives without clothing and _still _managed to get applause as he left the stage. Sometimes she suspected there was more to that Malfoy charm than just charisma; sometimes she thought it may be an actual spell in his blood that made him likeable when he tried.

Speech finished, he paced off the stage to Hermione's side, grabbing her hand. "Was that acceptable?" he asked.

"Not really, but it looks like you're going to get away with it – again," she grumbled.

Just then, the music started up and people began heading for the dance floor.

Malfoy smirked and looked down at her. "Would you care to dance?" he asked, purposely making his voice overly formal as he tugged on her hand.

She followed him out onto the dance floor and placed a hand on his shoulder while raising their still-joined fingers to her side in a proper position.

"None of that now, Granger," Malfoy murmured. He shook his fingers from her grasp and put her hand behind his neck with the other one. His own hands went around her waist and pulled her against him.

The next song began and Malfoy started swaying them to the music. He had enough of a height advantage that she was forced to stand on her toes if she didn't want to lean against him. Hermione _wanted _to lean against him and relax, but she couldn't seem to forget the hundreds of eyes resting on the both of them. She felt like they were just waiting for her to do something wrong so they could pounce.

Her whole body stiffened when Malfoy rested a hand on the back of her hair and tucked her head under his chin. "Relax, Granger. You care too much what people think," he said, kissing her temple.

"One of us has to; you care too little."

He scoffed. "Nonsense, I care just enough."

"Which is not at all?"

"Exactly, now relax before you make the both of us tense."

Hermione once again tried to relax, she really did, but she just couldn't in front of so many people.

His hand moved to the small of her back, where he started to rub small circles that would have relaxed her if there hadn't been so many witnesses to the small gesture. She could _feel _them dissecting her motives for dating Malfoy and the meaning behind his obvious affection for her.

Malfoy sighed when she remained tense, the breath making her hair shift. "If you can't relax, I'll do something that'll _really _make you uncomfortable, and neither of us wants that; I have something important inside my jacket that'll vanish along with our clothes."

Unsurprisingly, that statement didn't relax her at all. Something about him threatening her with public nudity just didn't calm her down – it didn't help that she wouldn't put it past him to make good on his threat.

"Why are you so set on getting me to relax?" she asked, hoping to distract him from her continued rigidity.

"Because I don't want you uncomfortable for what I'm about to do."

Confused, she watched him reach inside his jacket and pull out something smallish and square. Before she could take it from him, he'd unscrewed the top and taken a long drink from his flask.

"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed. She tried to take the flask from him, but he was faster, slipping it inside his jacket just as she brushed it with her fingers. "I thought you were cutting back on your drinking."

"I have been, love, but I need the courage for what I'm about to do."

Hermione ripped herself from his hold and crossed her arms. "And what is it you have to do that's so terrifying you need alcohol? Your speech is done and the only other thing planned for the night is dinner."

"Not quite," he said.

Once again, he reached his hand inside his jacket. Hermione prepared to pounce on him the minute she saw the flask again, but it was something else he pulled from the inside pocket. A small, black velvet box was resting in his palm.

"That better not be what it looks like," she said, her voice a squeak. There were so many people _watching _and that little black box was making even more people notice them. She knew there was a reporter somewhere in the crowd, so whatever happened was going to be spread across the papers in the morning.

"Nope," he said with a grin. "The look on your face is priceless though."

He offered her the box.

Hesitantly, more than aware that they were the centre of attention, Hermione accepted the box. She ran her fingers over the soft velvet for a moment before opening it. Her mouth dropped open at what she found inside. It was the most beautiful pair of diamond earrings she'd ever seen. Completely transfixed, she didn't notice Malfoy reaching inside his jacket again.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, stretching out a finger and running it along the cool edge of one of the diamonds. Had she not been completely mesmerized, she probably would have objected to how much they must have cost. He would have argued that it wasn't like he couldn't afford it and then insisted she accept it. They had the same conversation every time he gave her jewellery and she usually ended up keeping the gifts.

"They'll match perfectly with your engagement ring," he said.

_That _caught her attention. Her eyes snapped to him to find that he had another box in his hand.

He kept his gaze fixed firmly on her while he offered her the ring. It didn't surprise her that he wasn't willing to drop down on one knee – lowering himself to his knee in front of a large audience of his peers just wasn't a Malfoy thing to do.

"Are you going to answer?" he asked impatiently. Her shock and wonder was flattering and all, but the waiting was bothering him. Malfoy's don't wait for people. She was the only one who didn't rue the day she had ever made him wait.

"You haven't asked me yet," she said quietly.

His silver eyes widened in surprise. "I thought the engagement ring was kind of self-explanatory."

Hermione gave him an irritated look. "Humour me."

"The things I do for you," he sighed dramatically, smiling when her irritated expression morphed into a scowl.

Abruptly, his smile faded and his face turned serious. "Hermione Granger, will you save me the money on hiring a new assistant to keep me in line and marry me?"

That was probably as good as she was going to get...

She took a slow step towards him, staring into his eyes and taking a hold of his jacket. Just as he was leaning down for a kiss, she plunged a hand inside his jacket, grabbed onto the flask and stepped out of his reach.

Hermione took a big gulp of the burning liquid; he wasn't the only one who could use the courage. "You're still hiring a new assistant," she said, moving close to replace the flask in his pocket and kissing him for real this time.

"I haven't even been fired yet," Hermione heard the current assistant complain.

Malfoy pulled his lips away from Hermione. "I assumed your complete uselessness would have tipped you off. You're fired."

The girl gasped and once again started crying, but no one was really paying attention to her. The focus of the room was on the embracing pair in the centre of the dance floor. A few cameras flashed, ensuring that they would be in the papers in the morning. Draco had managed to get Hermione to relax after all.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your avoidance of answering the question you insisted I formally ask," Malfoy said against her lips.

"You did a half-arsed job of it."

"You're infuriating, you know that?" he grumbled.

They had put some distance between their faces to allow for conversation but were still standing what Hermione would have considered indecently close in front of such a large audience.

"Give me on good reason to marry you."

He didn't hesitate. "I'm rich, good looking, charming, amazing in bed-" he would have listed more along those lines, but Hermione raised eyebrow stopped him.

"And I love you with all of my shrivelled, black heart. I happen to have it from reliable sources that you love me as well. Now say yes before the nice reporters start to think I've been rejected. It would completely ruin my reputation."

"I actually think the sympathy from female readers would _improve _your reputation," she said.

His eyes narrowed into a teasing glare. He wasn't worried that she was going to say no, but it had become a game to get her to admit she was perfectly willing to marry him. He leant his head down so that his mouth was nearly touching the shell of her ear. "I have everything I needed out of my jacket now, there's nothing stopping me from vanishing our clothes."

Hermione shivered at the tone his voice had taken, but it wasn't from fear. "Since charges of public indecency would negatively impact my career, I'm going to have to say yes."

He grinned. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Gladly," he said, kissing her again.


End file.
